


Home is Where the Heart is; Stolen

by Justicetom



Category: Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Game Mechanics In Universe, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Persona 5 Protagonist is from Inaba, Persona 5 Spoilers, Persona 5: The Royal, Polyamory, Polythieves (Persona 5), Post-Canon, set in p5r universe but when spoilers are introduced you will be warned in advance, there are depths to the polythief relationships but those will be explained when they come up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 74,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24937090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justicetom/pseuds/Justicetom
Summary: “So, this is your hometown?”“Inaba, the town where I was born and raised. What do you think?”Akira Kurusu returns home after the defining year of his life. The Trickster may have won peace, but the world doesn't stop when the credits roll. He's going to leave his mark on Inaba and its people - and they'll leave their mark on him.
Relationships: Polythieves
Comments: 103
Kudos: 512
Collections: Marigolds Discord Recs





	1. Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Don't we all wonder what happens when Joker returns home after the game ends? I decided to try and write some of it. A lot of stuff is going to happen to try and connect the different games in a way that feels natural and fits in with canon, and we'll see how it goes.

_3/20. Afternoon._

Akira stood silently, a stranger looking at the familiar sights of a town he once called home. The train station was nearly silent, especially when compared with the constant hustle and bustle of Tokyo. Even Yongen-Jaya in the morning had more ambient noise than this place did. It was a little unsettling.

Morgana wriggled to the top of his bag, a yawn in his voice as he looked around at the drab station. “So, this is your hometown?”

“Inaba, the town where I was born and raised. What do you think?” 

“I don’t really know yet. It has a very peaceful atmosphere, though. It feels almost homely!”

 _That makes one of us._

“Don’t look so down, Joker! You’ve still got me with you, after all!” The cat finally wriggled all the way out of the bag, leaping down to the ground and looking up at him. Akira’s hair was a mess, his glasses were askew, and he looked like he was about to fall asleep standing up.

“Are you okay, Akira? I told you to go to bed early last night!”

“It’s not that,” Akira rolled his eyes, a fond smile growing as he looked at his best friend/cat/human-in-training trotting around his legs, “I’m just a little worried. It’s been so long since I’ve even had to think about anyone here. It’s going to be hard to readjust.”

“Imagine how I feel! I’ve never been here before! I can’t lead you around like I normally do, so either your GPS had better be good or you need to remember where everything is on your own.”

“It hasn’t been _that_ long!” Akira shook his head, motioned with his hand, and as Morgana jumped back into his bag, he walked towards… home.

* * *

It wasn’t much of a house. One floor, medium sized, without so much as a garden. A couple of potted plants scattered around the front door, but that was it. It was just… a house. A regular old boring house. He noticed, immediately, that there wasn’t a car parked outside. That made sense. His parents were probably busy, that’s all. He’d been in Tokyo for basically a whole year, they trusted him now. He was a big, strong, and capable young man. That’s what they’d say.

“Do you have a key? I could probably pick the lock!” 

“Mona, we don’t need to pick the lock to my own house. There should be a spare key somewhere around here for me, I’m sure. Gimme a moment.” _Focus._ The plant on the windowsill, huh? How original. They used to keep it under the doormat. He lifted up the potted plant, grabbed the spare keys, and opened the door to a house that used to be so familiar.

* * *

Unpacking wasn’t hard, but it was much more difficult than packing had been when he first headed off to Tokyo. Up went his Risette poster (thanks, Ann, for more reasons than she knew about), up went his collection of plushies (since he spent so much time in the arcade, did Shinya have a collection too? He should ask at some point), Ogikubo’s ramen bowl (he’d need to stop by Aiya’s soon. Maybe he could take Ryuji there too at some point?)...

The Kumade from Haru (the figure on it looked familiar, but he wasn’t sure why), Desire and Hope (he already missed Yusuke)... and there! Everything was up, at least for now (maybe he could put up some shelves for everything else he had, and a peg for Desire and Hope?) when he heard the front door open. Welcome home, at last.

* * *

“I’m glad to hear you had so much fun in Tokyo! Sakura-san’s reports back were always short, but I got the impression after a while that you’d really charmed the old guy.” Akira smiled, hand on the back of his neck. They were at their kitchen table, Morgana sitting in his lap (for support, allegedly, but probably just for attention) and it seemed like nothing had changed.

“Oh, and, you’ve still got those glasses on. You don’t need them anymore, so you should take them off. You’re back home, with your family.” Akira hesitated. Yeah, he didn’t need them, and he hadn’t for… months, now, honestly. They were intended to make him look a little less like a delinquent, but he’d honestly grown rather fond of them. “Don’t worry, Akira, it’s not like _we_ ever thought you were really a delinquent. Your father and I were just worried about you, that’s all. Come on, take them off!” Reluctantly, he removed his glasses and placed them on the table. His mother smiled, and he tried to smile back at her as best he could.

“And what about Dad? Is he coming home soon?”  
  
“Oh, your father? He’s out of town for a few days. Work stuff. Bad timing, I suppose. I didn’t even realise you were getting home so early today! If you’d told me, I would’ve cancelled my plans with my friends! You got in just fine, though.” 

“I had to look a little bit. You moved the key.”  
  
“Oh, did we? Sorry about that, I didn’t think about it. Your father and I both have our own keys, after all.” His mother shrugged, a soft smile on her face. She had to look up a little to stare Akira in the eye, which, if he remembered correctly, was new.

“I don’t suppose I could keep the spare key on me? If you’d prefer it be there for a spare, that’s okay, but I’d rather not have to break into my own house every day.” Akira returned with a gentle smile of his own, tilting his head to the side endearingly alongside his request.

“Dear, don’t say that, you’re not going to break into anywhere. You don’t want to get arrested again, do you?” Akira rolled his eyes. His mother knew fully well it wasn’t his fault he was arrested. 

“Not a problem anymore, don’t worry. I haven’t had to break any laws in at least a week.” His mother’s expression turned a little darker. He wished Chihaya was here. He could use a little guidance. Though, speaking of… Nevermind, he’d think about that later.

She shook her head at him, and he smiled wryly in her direction, hoping she’d take it apologetically. The rest of the evening was unremarkable, takeout tofu with a side of quiet conversation.

* * *

_3/20. Evening._

He lay in bed, Mona fast asleep on top of him. The gentle purring was nice, but not enough to lull him to sleep. Somewhere, a few rooms over, his mother was doing what he could not. He could only hear her breathing if he focused, but it was calm, measured. That was good. He was happy she was sleeping well.

… Alright, this wasn’t going to work. He couldn’t lie to himself. He was a little upset with her. He understood, he really did, that not everybody could make time. But - he glanced at his phone, sitting beside him. He’d said good night to the rest of the thieves… nearly an hour ago? It’d been nice to talk to them, feel their love for him, but he missed them. 

… He was getting distracted, wasn’t he? 

He’d told his mother. He’d texted her… yesterday? The day before, technically. It was past midnight. But he’d texted her, telling her he’d be home sometime that day. He didn’t really mind, of course - he’d had far too many friends all want to talk to him on the same day and he only had time for a few things a day, especially with all the travel he had to do in Tokyo - but it didn’t feel quite right that his _mother_ hadn’t remembered. Or hadn’t cared? No, he saw how she acted, she was genuinely glad to have him home. 

The other thing, too. The thing he didn’t want to think about too hard, because he really didn’t know what it meant. None of his Personae had reacted to her. It was dumb, right? It wasn’t like they reacted to _every single person_ he ran into. It was just his friends - his confidants - who they reacted to. Even when their arcana didn’t match up - a confusing subject he’d asked two separate Igors about and gotten two entirely different answers to that elucidated absolutely nothing - he still had some reaction.

He should’ve gotten some sort of response from Satanael, or Kohryu, or Ishtar, or _somebody_. But they’d all sat there, quietly in his mind, not a whisper of suggestion or advice creeping through from the depths of his soul. That didn’t mean anything. Maybe he needed a Temperance persona? He didn’t think he’d be able to get one - the Velvet Room shouldn’t be available, especially not in a boring place like Inaba, and it’s not like he needed to fight anymore, but... maybe that was why? Yeah, it had to be. Or maybe he just couldn’t find new confidants anymore, now that he had the World. Sure. That could be it.

He groaned, quietly, hoping not to wake up Morgana. He’d figure it out tomorrow. Maybe he could text Chihaya and ask for a reading.

* * *

_3/21. Early Morning_

The worst part, he decided, of being back in Inaba? The coffee. Sojiro had been kind enough to give him some beans as a going-away gift, but they didn’t have good equipment in the house to make anything worth having. Sure, his mother had enthusiastically told him it was the best coffee she’d ever tasted when he offered her a cup, but he could do better. Thankfully, with all the cash he still had saved up from trips into Mementos and part-time jobs, he was happy to rectify that.

* * *

_3/21. Daytime_

Junes was familiar, nearly identical to how he remembered it. The weight of his wallet was far from familiar, but he wasn’t going to shoot a gift Orobas in the mouth. While he was here, he needed to pick up some curry ingredients, too. The fridge had been nearly empty this morning, and he didn’t feel like eating beans and rice for breakfast, lunch and dinner. He could even show the Leblanc curry recipe to his mother, maybe make up for lost time.

The grocery department was first, mostly because it was easier to lug around food than a whole coffee machine, in his experience. Maybe he’d get a TV, too? He hadn’t been able to bring his old CRT from the attic; it was too big and he was pushing luggage rules as it was. Morgana - ever present in his bag, as always - would appreciate it, too. He loved watching TV in the morning, even if he refused to admit it.

While he idly shopped, mind miles away from the Junes Department Store, he almost walked straight into a little girl doing her own grocery shopping. The first thing he noticed about her was her neat little pigtails, tied up with some nice pink hairties. The kid was… about Shinya’s age, he was pretty sure? She had brown hair, brown eyes, and a nice pink dress. The second thing he noticed was a kind smile on her face, despite the fact he had been on a direct collision course in her direction. The final thing he noticed - and, by far, the most annoying - was the clanging voice of Metatron from the depths of his soul.

“Sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, I should’ve been-”

“It’s okay! I don’t mind, just keep an eye out in the future! Oh, you dropped something. Are you okay?” He looked down, quickly grabbed whatever it was that he dropped, and looked at her again. She looked vaguely familiar, but definitely not somebody he knew. Why had Metatron reacted so strongly? 

“... Are you okay? Hello?” He snapped to attention, bringing his patented Joker smile to his face. 

“Sorry, I was lost in thought, and I guess I wasn’t paying attention. I’m fine, yeah, just… Do I know you?” Girl with Pigtails scrunched up her face in thought, looking him up and down, determining her response to his question.

“I don’t think so? My name’s Nanako Dojima. I live here, so maybe you’ve just seen me around? Or you know my big bro? What’s your name?” Nanako Dojima, huh? The family name rang a bell, but he didn’t know anybody named Nanako. 

“No, sorry, you must just look like somebody I know. I just moved back here after being away for a year, so I haven’t seen you around recently, that’s for sure. Sorry, Dojima-chan, again, I’ll be sure to pay more attention next time!” She giggled, shaking her head at him.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. You remind me of my big bro, though. Do you know Yu Narukami? I don’t really know what it is, but something about you seems familiar to me, too.” 

“Yu Narukami…? He sounds familiar. Definitely not one of my friends, though. Not that I wouldn’t want him to be my friend, though! I’m sure he’s a cool guy, if he’s your big brother.” 

Girl with Pigtails giggled again, a gentle smile coming over her face at the mention of her brother. He had a different family name, which… Well, Akira had Futaba, so it’s not like he could judge. Maybe that was why Metatron had reacted so strongly? No, Ongyo-Ki would’ve reacted, surely. Ugh. Personas didn’t make any sense, sometimes.

“Oh, are your glasses okay? I hope they didn’t break when you dropped them!” His glasses… Oh. They must’ve been what he dropped, when he bumped into Girl with Pigtails. No, Nanako. Her name was Nanako. He hadn’t even realised he had his glasses on that day, but it was a difficult habit to break.

“No, don’t worry, they’re fine. I don’t really need them anyways, it’s okay.” 

Nanako laughed softly, smiling up at him. “My big bro has some glasses he wears sometimes, too. Are you sure you don’t know him?” He shook his head. This girl was sweet, and clearly adored her big brother. She did remind him of Futaba, a bit. 

… He missed her. He missed all of the thieves, though, so that wasn’t anything new.

He exchanged a few more pleasantries with the girl before heading off. Metatron had reacted, so clearly, his previous idea of his Personae not reacting to the people he talks to wasn’t true. So… why not his mother…? And why _Metatron_? That little girl? Akechi? She looked much too young, but it wasn’t impossible. Unlikely, though. He’d think about it later.

* * *

One successful trip to the electronics department later (and a visit to the food court, more for Mona’s sake than his own) and he was back home, with high-quality deluxe coffee making equipment. He sat back with his new (much better) cup of coffee and relaxed. He checked his phone, sent a picture of his new coffee next to a sleepy Morgana basking in the sunlight to the thieves, and stretched out in his chair.

… He was bored. He could go shopping again, but shopping never felt like a good use of his time. Maybe he’d go fishing? Visit the shrine? Get something from the bookstore? There were no batting cages, he didn’t have any Confidants to chat with, he couldn’t go training in Mementos… 

This sucked. His time in the past month had been so filled with spending time with his friends before he left that he hadn’t realised just how little he had to do now. No missions, no hearts to steal, nothing. He didn’t even have a reason to go and find new Confidants. It wasn’t like he searched them out just because Igor told him to, of course; they did mean a lot to him and he was glad he met all of them, but he just felt a little aimless. He had Morgana, sure, but he _always_ had Morgana. 

He could probably fill in some time with part-time jobs, and it’d help make sure his cash didn’t run dry? That wasn’t really a problem, though. Mementos had been lucrative and he was pretty sure he could live for the next few years comfortably without worry, but what else was there? Junes probably needed a new part-timer, and he’d worked there before, so he didn’t think it’d be too hard to get it back again. Maybe it’d let him meet some new people, too. That was better than nothing.

* * *

_3/21. Afternoon._

“So you want to work here? What’s your schedule like, kid?” Something about the man standing in front of him struck him as odd. Light brown hair, brown eyes, a _stylish_ jacket with a pair of headphones Futaba would absolutely approve of, early 20s, and the strangest sense of familiarity. Green? Why did he associate this man with green? Surt wasn’t helping, either. Same feeling he’d had with that little girl, but instead of Akechi, it was his cat. Sure, why not? This man? Morgana? What was the difference, really?

“Hello? Are you there? You’re the Kurusu kid, aren’t you? I remember you. You worked here a year or two back, didn’tcha? We’d be happy to have you back!” He waved a hand jokingly in front of Akira’s face, an almost indiscernible concern vanishing the moment Akira snapped to attention. 

“Yeah, I was out of town for the past year, but I’m back. My schedule’s open and I don’t really have any commitments other than school, when that goes back, so I’m happy to work just about whenever I’m needed.” He flashed the manager - Hanamaru, was it? - a grin, and received one in return. Surt approved.

“Great! We’ve been really needing some extra hands around. If your schedule’s open, I don’t suppose you’d mind chippin’ in right now? We’ve got some goods in the electronics department we need some help carrying around.” Electronics department… Oh, right. Hanamaru had that weird thing about being too clumsy to help with moving electronics. When asked, he shared some anecdote about ending up in a trash can from riding a bike? He hadn’t really been listening back then, but everybody else had laughed, so it was probably an amusing story.

“Always happy to help. Lead the way, sir!” 

* * *

“Hanamura-san, who’ve you got there? New hand?” Ah, Hanamura. He was suddenly glad he had just decided to stay generic. Akira stretched, put his bag on the ground (Morgana had stayed home, on account of wanting to let him get a job and figure out how likely he would be to get in trouble for bringing a cat/human-in-training into the store) and walked over to help.

It went just fine, until he had to help somebody lug around a big fancy flatscreen TV. Hand on the frame, hand down the bottom and- the TV slipped out of his hand, nearly dropping to the ground. His grip tightened on the top of the TV, instinctively, and - oh, hell. His hand was too far inside the frame. Did he grip so hard he _broke_ the TV screen? The TV dropped again, he kicked out his foot, and **_crash--_ **

“Shit, I’m sorry, is everybody okay?” Joker looked around, analysing the situation. Nobody other than the other guy was in the splash radius, any broken parts would easily be gathered up, everything would be _fine_ , he could pay-

“Yo, dude, you okay? Hey, breathe for a moment, everything good? You hurt?” Hanamura walked over, looking over the scene with a trained eye. Joker looked down, ready to dodge anything sharp on the ground, and - huh?

“Nice save, dude, but do you know what happened? Butter fingers?” That was a surprise. The TV screen was on the ground - apparently his kick had allowed it to land face-up - and… completely intact. He hadn’t gripped it hard enough that it broke or anything. That was good. Must’ve just been a panic response or something. He hadn’t been able to focus at all today, with his Personae going off like fire alarms. He shook his head, and turned back to Hanamura.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m not sure. Maybe I’m just out of practice here. Maybe the TV could tell, and tried to escape?” That wasn’t bad. Little rushed, spur of the moment, but hopefully Hanamura wasn’t going to fire him in the first hour on the job. His hand went to the back of his neck, an embarrassed smile on his face. 

“Hah, maybe. I’ll keep that in mind next time, but you’re lucky the screen didn’t break. Maybe stay away from the TV? I know I never trust myself with them either. But seriously, you okay, dude?” Akira smiled at him, anxiety evaporating. Hanamura was a pretty nice guy after all.

* * *

Marukyu Tofu was quiet. There was a subtle hum of machinery and soft noises of a radio playing from the back, playing some soft song about heartbreak, but he still felt a little awkward just walking up to the counter of an empty store. He looked around for a moment, but finally clicked the little notification bell. One of the things he missed about Tokyo was how overworked the employees were. Sure, it was horrible, but when it directly benefited him by letting him shave tens of seconds off of his day, he could almost see the appeal in working teenagers to the bone. 

“Sorry for the wait. Do you know your order?” Aaaaaaaaand there was Ishtar. This town really was just abuzz with interesting people, huh?

“Hello! Oh, hey, Rise-chan, long time no see. How’ve you been?” 

“Akira-kun! Welcome back, we missed you around. Have your tastes changed while you were away at all or do you just want your usual?” The cheerful woman across the counter gave him a warm smile. This was more nostalgic than he expected. He’d never mentioned it to Ann, or Ryuji, or Futaba, but he was a regular at Marukyu Tofu (or, at least, he had been) and yeah, he knew Risette herself, a little bit.

“Maybe a bit more than my usual, I’ve gotten better at eating over the past year. Also, I picked up a cat. Can cats eat tofu? Do you have anything here I could get for him?” He wasn’t really close with Rise, obviously. He went to the tofu shop most days when he was younger, though, and while he hadn’t been aware enough of idol culture to be dazzled by the great, marvelous, wonderful and angelic Risette, he ended up spending enough time around the shop that they ended up talking a little.

“Oh, good! What’s the little guy’s name? I don’t actually know if cats can try it, but I’ll give you a little extra and you can check when you get home. Don’t worry, it’s on the house. You can pay by bringing him in so I can see him!” He smiled, knowing by the look in her eyes he wouldn’t be able to turn it down. Mona would like the attention, anyway, especially if Ishtar reacted to her like that. His eyes glazed over as switched to Ishtar, just out of habit - and to get her to shut up. Personas were handy and all, but when they wanted attention, they could really give you a headache.

He focused back to the real world to find Rise to find her looking at him with a strange, almost suspicious look on her face. She looked him up and down, paying particular attention to his arms and legs. She mouthed something, quietly. Cues? Kouz? He wasn’t great at reading lips. What was she saying? Why was she suspicious of him? Did she know about the thieves? Was she, somehow, working for the police? She looked up, meeting his eyes, and…

“Somebody did some exercise while they were away, huh? If I was a few years younger I’d be all over you!” He rolled his eyes. He must’ve been overthinking it. Rise was here on a hiatus from her idol career. She wasn’t working for the police with the little time she had. Her new album had been a smash hit, and she was just taking a break for “inspiration and relaxation”. 

“I’m taken, sorry, and they’d at least want to meet you before we could date. Besides, it might be a bit much for the media, don’t you think? High school delinquent and hit idol?” The two laughed, and he ended up staying and chatting longer than he intended, swapping stories about their friends. He hadn’t missed a lot about Inaba, but it wasn’t all bad.

* * *

_3/21. Evening_

He hadn’t missed the evening walks around Inaba, that was for sure. The town had never been too great with the whole crime scene, and while its act had been cleaned up after the events a few years back, it still was far from pristine. The semantics of the quality of law enforcement in the town were far from the first thing on his mind, however, as he stared down some thug with a gun. Fuck. 

“So, what do you want? Money? My phone? Come on, man, we don’t have to make this rough.” Joker’s hands went up slowly, demonstrating he was clearly unarmed and not making any threatening gestures. 

“Heh, that’d be nice, wouldn’t it? Nah, this is personal. You’re the Kurusu kid, after all.” He knew who he was. That was bad. Personal meant it was somebody with a grudge, and it was a lot harder to pay off grudges.

“Never heard of him. What did he do?”

“Don’t be smart with me, kid. I got some nice intel from a buddy of mine that the kid who fucked up Tsuda’s deal and got Masa taken in was gonna be in this shithole of a town. Didn’t have much else to do, considering I had to go underground when my fuckin’ brother got removed. Figured I’d see if you’d entertain me while I was hidin’, if you pick up what I’m putting down.” That made sense. Iwai had done a good job of hiding his and Akira’s involvement with the whole case, but if this guy was Masa’s brother… This guy had an axe to grind and a fool to sharpen it with.

“Hey, I dunno who this Kurusu is, but I’d be happy to pass on the message.” Joker glanced around. The guy seemed competent, but he also seemed to be alone. If he yelled for help, there was a pretty high chance he’d end up with a bullet through his head. His phone was in his bag, hanging loosely off his arm, and he wasn’t close enough to his house for Mona to have any reasonable chance of giving him an assist. 

One point in his favour, three or four against him. He’d won harder fights in the past, but normally he had equipment of some sort. All of his emergency supplies were all in a hidden pocket in his bag, and Mona wasn’t there to fish them out for him. He really was at a disadvantage without his cat, huh? He needed to keep that in mind for next time. His Personas weren’t exactly going to help him that much, and he’d never been brave enough to test whether their resistances carried over into the real world, but as he switched to Fafnir, he decided it was better safe than sorry. Now. Time to _focus._

“Stop fucking with me, asshole,” the thug stepped forward, gesturing with his gun but never taking it off the boy in front of him, “or I’ll make this worse for you than I was plannin’. Here I was, plannin’ to let you walk off after teachin’ you a lesson, but I mightn’t be so len-” _now._

_Joker threw his feet forward and dropped to the ground. To an outside observer, it would look like a perfectly executed pratfall. To the man in front of him, it seemed like his target had collapsed in shock. Joker landed on his hands and pushed, kicking upwards with explosive force. The man swore in pain, shock or both as the gun was knocked from his hand. It discharged, the bullet flying directly into the sky._

_Coming back down to the ground, Joker pushed forward again, sending himself barreling like a projectile towards the man. He wrapped his legs around the man’s waist and pulled, the sudden weight bringing him off his feet. Twisting as they fell, Joker ended up on top of the thug as his head slammed into the dirt, leaving him dazed._

_He grabbed the man’s throat, and tightened his grip. He couldn’t go for a sleeper hold given how they were positioned, but he was pretty good at improvisation. One, two, three… He felt the man’s movements catch and he released. Unconscious, and he would be for a while._ _Joker got up and scanned the area. A flash of blue, and… he found the gun. Alright._

He took a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline pulsing through him. He had a pair of gloves in his bag to pick up the gun without leaving prints, and… Oh. His phone was on?

“Joker! Are you okay?” Futaba’s voice came through the speaker. She must’ve been listening in and forced a call through. That was helpful.

“It’s okay, Oracle, I’m fine. I subdued him. Did you hear everything?” Gloves on, gun collected, thug’s hands secured behind his back…

“Yeah, I was listening in. I was gonna see if you were up for a call, ‘cause we missed you, but then I heard the trash mob over there threatening you. I heard a gun, are you sure you’re okay?”

“It’s okay, the shot didn’t hit anything. He’s unconscious now. Do you have my location? Can you contact the police and tell them to pick this guy up for me? I’d rather not have to give any reports, I don’t want to deal with the police.”

“Can do! The gunshot probably got some attention, so you’d better make like a tree and get the hell out of there. Is Inaba always PVP enabled, or did you just get bad RNG on that event?” Futaba’s voice over the phone was unsteady, panic clearly being held in but bursting at the seams. Akira finished fiddling with the gun and placed it back down next to the man, the weapon rendered inert without serious repair work done for the police to collect.

“Relax, Oracle, I’m okay. Take a deep breath, stop worrying. I’m heading home now, so tip off the Inaba Police Department, thanks. I’ll get back to you when I get home. Love you, bye.” He hung up the call, looked around to make sure he wasn’t being watched, and took off towards his house. He needed to be careful in the future. He’d made enemies, apparently. 

He was almost disappointed, in a weird way, that he hadn’t gotten shot. He really didn’t want to find out the hard way if he’d reflect bullets with Fafnir, but at the same time… He shook his head, and doubled his pace.

* * *

“Hello? Yes, I’m on location, and the perp is detained. I would appreciate transport, though. I was on foot and just happened to be in the area. No sign of whoever reported it, or whatever the gun was pointed at. Thanks. I’ll see you soon.” She hung up, looking around the dark streets. An attempted robbery, assault, or murder? With a fully functional firearm? In Inaba? People here didn’t typically have access to firearms, but maybe times had changed. She felt a little bad about lying, but, well, it wasn’t entirely false. There _was_ no sign of whoever reported it. He’d just already disappeared, and thankfully, hadn’t noticed her.

Speaking of, though… 

“Hello? Is this Rise-chan? As requested, I trailed him, and he ended up in an altercation. I’ll show you the footage in person, but you might be right. He disarmed his assailant in such an unorthodox fashion… Yes, he’s fine, the worst injury he’ll have is a bruise. I’ll show you soon, I just need to wait for another officer to arrive. Thank you. Goodbye.” 

It seemed that the sleepy town of Inaba might’ve just gotten a wake-up call. Either way, she had more than enough basis to continue her investigation. She would have regardless, of course - Kurusu felt much too similar to one of her friends to ignore. There was the thing Yosuke thought he saw, too… Overall, there were just a lot of strange things around the young man. Her time off was going to get a lot more interesting.


	2. Strawbeary Blond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anybody curious, I am planning to keep writing this thing, but schedules are hard, so just know I am doing my best!

_?????, Late Night _

Another report was shoved to the wayside, joining a growing stack of papers. They were all useless. She was just looking for  _ one _ name. She just needed to confirm something. She read over the police report, cursing under her breath at the smudged writing that once again faced her. Ku…. A…. was just about all she could make out. Was it intentional, or was the police department just that inept that she couldn’t find the name of the man apprehended for the most significant civil unrest in recent memory? 

She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and turned to the next report. In this one, the name was  _ just _ blacked out. While she understood that the names and faces of minors associated with crime ought to be kept secret, she had access to the most guarded reports of the police department. It had to be intentional. Somebody had to be actively hiding the identity of the leader of the Phantom Thieves, even from the police department itself. 

But who? More importantly, how? They had to be somebody closely involved with the case to have access to these documents, but anybody caught doing something like this to important documents would be severely reprimanded at a minimum. She admired their courage, but…

She almost missed it. Buried among files and files, a name jumped out at her and struck her like a bullet. It wasn’t the first name she’d seen in these documents, but all the other names were clearly false. But she could tell. Something about the name just felt right, and as she stared at the sullen picture accompanying the name, she knew.

“Kikuno-san?” The maid snapped to attention, immediately broken from the powerful hold of a light doze.

“Yes, Milady?”

“I need you to pass on a message to HQ for me. I found him. I found Akira Kurusu.”

* * *

_ 3/23, Daytime _

Ann Takamaki was having a weird day. Typically, when she showed up to model, she didn’t walk in on a crew feverishly packing up as if a tornado was coming in with a particular dislike for cameras. 

“Did I miss something?”

A stout man she recognised from a few previous sessions nearly jumped out of his skin at her voice, a palpable aura of panic emanating from him.

“Ann-chan! Sorry, sorry, I, um. We.” 

“Is everything okay? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, no, nothing’s wrong, it’s just that we, uh,” the man paused for a moment to catch his breath before continuing, “we had a last minute relocation of today’s shoot and I don’t want to disappoint the boss, y’know? I’m so sorry about this, we would’ve notified you in advance, but we didn’t get the news until a little while ago.”

“It’s totally fine! Do you need a hand?” 

“No, no, we’ve got it under control. We wouldn’t want you to mess up your makeup or anything, especially not for today’s shoot.” Around them, high-quality (and expensive) equipment was being carefully carried to the back of the location. Ann didn’t really know where they were - some studio, the type of place she’d been to a thousand times before - but the place seemed fine. Why would they need to move locations?

* * *

The car wasn’t cramped, but it felt claustrophobic anyway. Ann wasn’t really sure where they were headed. Her phone was tucked away securely in her jacket, quietly recording everything around her. Something about this felt fishy, and she’d quietly texted Futaba to monitor her feed and get help if anything weird happened. It didn’t seem to her like that sort of setup, but she didn’t want to take risks she didn’t have to.

The man she had recognised from previous shoots was seated across from her, his breathing calmed now and a strange look of what looked like glee flashing across his face every so often. He was clearly trying to hide it, trying to act like this was normal, but something was definitely off. He was nervous, though. He glanced at his phone every few moments, checking the same messages over and over. Ann couldn’t see what the messages were, or who they were from, but she’d done the same thing - albeit typically for messages from Shiho - several times in the past. He was making sure he hadn’t just imagined the message, that it was real, and it  continued to  _ be _ real. 

“Here we are! After you, Ann-chan.” A sharply dressed man opened the door of the car and bowed to her. She slowly stepped out, looking around at the new location. It was… nothing special. The drive had taken a while, but nothing about the new location indicated that it was worth changing studios. She followed the man inside quietly, looking around.

* * *

“So you’re Takamaki-chan? I’m glad to be working with you!” Ann was silent as she took in the figure in front of her. Neat brown hair outlined the smiling face of an absolutely stunning woman. The lithe figure in front of her raised a hand, waving it in front of her face. “Takamaki-chan? Are you there?” It all made sense now. Why the man had been so shocked about the sudden change, why they had to move here. Of course they did. Any self-respecting model - or, really, any person with any interest in pop culture, modeling, or attractive women - would have agreed. Standing in front of her, clad in a sleek pink suit, holding a bow loosely at her side…

“T-T-Takeba-senpai, I’m, honoured-” She was silenced by a quiet shake of the head, and a dazzling smile.

“Please. Call me Yukari.”

* * *

_ futababa: ann???  _

_ futababa: ann what the FUCK is going on _

_ futababa: u cant be real  _

_ futababa: did i hear that right?? u met WHO? _

_ futababa: ann takamaki i swear to god _

_ Joker: Is something wrong? What’s going on w/ Ann? _

_ futababa: oh my fucking god  _

_ futababa: ur not going to believe this _

_ futababa: ann called me to make sure she wasnt getting kidnapped with a sudden change to modeling location _

_ futababa: so ive been monitoring her location _

_ futababa: and she fukcing _

_ Joker: Is she okay? _

_ futababa: she met yukari fucking takeba and shes modeling with her right now _

_ Joker: … That name sounds familiar. _

_ futababa: PINK ARGUS. FUCKING PINK ARGUS. ANN TAKAMAKI IS MODELING WITH THE PINK RANGER. _

_ Joker: Ah. _

_ ryuryu: EFFIN WHAT _

_ futababa: I KNOW _

_ ryuryu: NO FUCKIN WAY _

_ futababa: SHES NOT EVEN SUPOSED TO BE MODELING RIGHT NOW SHES SUPPOSED TO BE DOIJN G COLLEGE WHAT THE FUCK  _

_ ryuryu: IS SHE GETTING AUTOGRAPHS _

_ futababa: I DONT KNOW HE RPHONE ISNT ON HER ATM  _

_ ryuryu: FUCK _

_ Joker: Is this really such a big deal that you’d go from effin to fuck that quickly? _

_ ryuryu: YES _

_ futababa: YES _

_ Joker: Fair enough. _

* * *

_ ann: i got autographs! and we have plans to do more shoots together! I’m so excited! _

_ futababa: sdhsjdhsjhd _

* * *

_ Haru: How exciting! I’ve heard Takeba is quite the beauty, and a wonderful actress.  _

_ futababa: shes REALLY pretty _

_ Makoto: Oh, hello, Haru. You’ve been noticeably absent today. _

_ Haru: My apologies! I was checking out some of the facilities at my college today and I was convinced to try out the impromptu self-defense class being offered.  _

_ Makoto: Was it good? _

_ Haru: I enjoyed it! Although we all already have plenty of self-defense practice, Satonaka-senpai taught me some wonderful kicks, and the exercise was nice. _

_ Makoto: Did you learn anything that seemed useful? _

_ Haru: I learned a few things about pinning someone against a wall, which I would love to demonstrate to you at some point in the future! _

_ Makoto is typing… _

_ Makoto is typing… _

_ Makoto is typing… _

_ ryuryu: i think u broke her haru  _

_ Haru: :3 _

* * *

_ 3/23. Afternoon _

The worst part of working at Junes wasn’t the customers, or the weight of the boxes he had to carry, or the strange feeling he got that he was being watched sometimes. No, it was the mascot. The weird as hell walking red, white and blue bear. Sure, it wasn’t the first time he’d met the thing, and sure, he knew that inside the suit there was some twink-looking pretty boy, but something about the thing unnerved him now more than ever. Satanael murmured at the sight of it, but Akira could tell he wasn’t quite on the thing’s level. 

“Pay attention, Akira! You’re going to bruise the apples!” Morgana mewled at him from his bag, earning a tired eye roll from his usual chauffeur. The bag was sitting on the table, the cat/human-in-training peeking out just slightly.

“I’m not going to drop the apples, Mona. Now, get back in the bag. Hanamura only said you could be here if you stayed quiet and out of sight, and you’re not doing either of those things.”

“It’s not  _ my  _ fault you need instructions from I, the  _ great _ Morgana, on how to carry boxes.”

“Back in the bag or I’ll put you on sale.” With a groan, Morgana sunk back down into the bag, hidden from sight from any wandering customers

“Who’s going on sale? Yosuke won’t be beary happy if you’re doing surprise sales!” Shit. It was the bear.

“Oh, hi, Teddie, what’s up?” Of course he was in the mascot suit. The thing stared at him with eyes that seemed much too alive.

“You’re the new hire! You seem beary familiar. We’ve met bearfore, right?”

“Haha, yeah, we have. I’m Akira. I was the little rascal with the messy black hair you kept around sometimes.”

“Oh! Strawbeary milkshake!” Akira paused. Was that really how he was remembered? Was that the legacy he left in his wake? Was the only thing the bear remembered about him the flavour of milkshake he liked as a kid? Truly, he would leave titanic shoes to fill.

“Strawberry milkshake? Is that what I should be calling you from now on?” Morgana chirped in, peeking out of the bag. Akira froze. Teddie froze. Morgana did not freeze. “Where did you pick up that nickname?”

Teddie shifted, Akira hearing what sounded like sniffing from within the suit. He looked around, slowly, with an aura of curiosity and confusion practically emanating from him.

“Sorry about that. That was my cat.” Teddie blinked, looking from Akira to the bag sitting on the bench, with a cat head poking out of it. 

“That was your cat?”

“Yeah, he’s a talkative little cat-”

“Don’t call me a cat! I’m a human! In training!”

“- and don’t worry, Hanamura-san said I could have him around the store as long as he was quiet and behaved himself for once-”   
“I am very well-behaved! I am a gentleman! The quintessential gentleman!”   
“- and you can feel free just to ignore him-”   
“Be nice!”   
“- and just pretend he’s not meowing. He’s not hungry or anything, he’s just whiny.”

Teddie stood there blankly, continuing to look between the cat and Akira slowly. He reached up, and slowly removed his head - no, the head of the bear suit, get it together, Akira - revealing the… very attractive, and very blond twink underneath.

“Sorry, I don’t have the bearst hearing, what was that? Your cat was making a lot of noise and it was a little difficult to make everything out.” Akira understood. Even if he didn’t know what it sounded like to hear Morgana’s speech as meows, he knew from first-hand experience how difficult it was to do things like ‘listen to lectures’ or ‘talk to his friends’ when he had a very helpful guide chirping in his ear every five seconds. There was a reason he had asked Morgana to take a walk whenever he wanted to hang out with his Confidants - he wanted to be there to listen to them, and that meant not missing anything, to the best of his abilities.

“It’s okay. I just said that he’s very talkative and loud - and I would appreciate it if he was quiet -”   


“Will do!”

“- and that Hanamura-san said I could have him around as long as he behaved and stuff. Did you get it that time?”

Teddie nodded brightly, an almost unsettlingly cheery smile on his face.

“Thank you! I’m glad he listens to you so well.”

“He’s just lucky to have me around!”   
“Morgana.”

“Alright, alright, I get it.”

Teddie shook his head, a paw going up to the side of his head. Akira could tell he was confused, and having trouble sorting through the sounds. That was strange. Most people didn’t have this much trouble, even when Morgana had a lot to say, but maybe the guy’s hearing was worse than he let on. 

“Sorry about my cat, he gets loud when I’m talking to new people.”

“It’s okay! He seems like a very refined kitty cat, and I’m sure you’re very lu-… I’m sure he’s a bear-undle of joy.” Akira laughed, hand on the back of his neck. 

“That one was a little beart of a stretch, don’t you think?” 

“Yours isn’t any beartter!”

* * *

_ 3/23. Evening _

“Hey, Joker.” Akira was instantly on edge from Morgana’s tone.

  
“What’s wrong, Mona?” 

“That guy. In the bear suit. Who is he?” 

Akira paused. “He’s… Hanamura-san’s brother, I think? He wanders around the store and convinces people to buy things. He’s the store mascot, and he has been since I was a kid. Why do you ask?”

“Something felt off about him.”

“... Like what?”

“I don’t know! He just felt weird! He had a weird smell!”   
  
“Are you sure he didn’t just have some kind of perfume on?”

“No! Well, he did, but that’s not what I was smelling! He reminded me of… not a Shadow, but something similar? I think? I’m not sure!”

“... Explain.”

Morgana jumped out of the bag and onto his bed, pacing around in a rough circle as he tried to figure out what he was trying to say.

“I don’t know, exactly, but I’m a creature of the Metaverse. I’m naturally attuned to the cognitive realm, and I can sense things in relation to it. I don’t know what I was feeling from him, but the guy in the bear suit has some relation to Shadows. He has to!” Joker sat on the bed beside the pacing cat, thinking quietly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”   


“Is he dangerous?”   


“I don’t know. I tried talking, but I couldn’t tell if he could hear me or not.”

“Oh, is that why you were being so talkative? I thought you were just being annoying for fun.”

“This is serious, Joker!” The cat paused his circling and trotted over to Joker, placing a paw on his leg. “Even when Lady Lavenza comes into the real world, she doesn’t have that same scent. This is something different, and I don’t know what it is.”

“Is it possible he’s been to the Metaverse? Maybe he has a Palace?” Joker opened his phone on reflex, checking to see if it had the MetaNav installed. Thankfully, the eye failed to show itself, and Joker put his phone back in his pocket.

“Not a chance. Persona users don’t have special feelings unless they’re actively using their Persona, or at least channeling a part of its power. Palace rulers aren’t anything special either, and besides, the Metaverse is supposed to be gone. Mementos shouldn’t be around, and his Shadow should be locked in the Sea of Souls like all the other Shadows. Nothing we have any experience with would produce this! This is totally new!”

“... The Sea of Souls?”

“Ugh, right. Basically, the Metaverse was the product of cognition and desire creating a physical manifestation of the collective unconscious, which provided an avenue for the products of the collective unconscious - Shadows - to trickle out into a realm more connected to the real world-”   
  
“Excuse me?”

“Pay attention, it’s not that complicated!”   


“Yes it is!”

“Ugh. Anyway-”

* * *

_ Joker: Hey, everybody, I have some bad news, maybe. Mona got weird feelings from a guy in my town, and there’s potential for him to have some connection to the Metaverse. We don’t know any details more than that, other than it doesn’t feel like anything Mona’s experienced before. _

_ Joker: If you want an explanation, you’ll have to ask Mona in person, it gave me a headache when he tried to explain it to me. I think I understand, but not anywhere near well enough to explain it. _

_ ryuryu: oh shit _

_ ryuryu: is it like pancake boy again? _

_ Joker: We don’t think so, but we can’t tell whether Teddie can hear Morgana. I have a feeling he can, but I don’t have any proof. Also, it seems even less likely for him to be a murderer than it was for Akechi, but looks could be deceiving. _

_ futababa: fuck _

_ ryuryu: wait his name is teddie? were worried about a guy named teddie??? _

_ Joker: He calls himself Teddie, at least. He’s the Junes mascot.  _

_ ann: oh you mean the cute bear thing that pops up on some merch every so often _

_ ann: i didnt realise that was a real thing lol i thought it was like  _

_ ann: some toy or something _

_ Makoto: Have any strange events taken place in Inaba that have any potential Metaverse-related causes? _

_ Joker: Nothing’s happened in this town for years. There were a few murders when I was younger, but the guy was apparently arrested. Weirdest thing in town atm is Mona. _

_ Joker: he just whacked me and told me to tell you all that the weirdest thing in town is me, not him _

_ ryuryu: yeah right like you could ever be weirder than him _

_ Joker: he says to fight him _

_ Makoto: Ahem.  _

_ ryuryu: sorry makoto _

_ Joker: Mona says sorry, Makoto _

_ Makoto: Back to the matter at hand. Keep an eye out for any strange events. I’ll do some research and see if I can dig up anything about Inaba. Futaba, can you do some research too? I’d appreciate your help here. _

_ futababa sent inabaresearch.doc _

_ futababa: inaba is weird w/ researching. it’s just big enough that you get generic top 10 lists that talk about it, but small enough that nobody ever talks about anything happening in it. even the police records of the area are hard to find and minimal at best and i think theyre being stored locally or even on paper  _

_ futababa: i’ll do some more digging but thats all i found, and it’s jack all. most notable thing about the town is an inn and that it has weird weather. ill look at a few deeper sources and see if i can find anything secret but _

_ Makoto: I normally wouldn’t approve of your behaviour, but I’ll let it pass this time, as it could be important. Thanks for your help. _

_ futababa: no prob _

_ futababa: alibaba is on the case! _

_ inari: Does the countenance of this individual suggest any sort of deception or trickery? Joker, you should be quite adept at detecting such acts, given your experience in the matter. _

_ Joker: He seems perfectly… not normal, but nothing about him feels like deception. _

_ Joker: I’ve known the guy since I was a kid and he always seemed nice. Nice enough to have milkshakes w/ a bored kid wandering around a store, at least. _

_ Joker: Nothing about him really feels dangerous to me. Akechi was… _

_ ryuryu: hot? _

_ Joker: No _

_ Joker: Well _

_ Joker: That’s not what I was going to say.  _

_ Joker: Regardless. _

_ Joker: Akechi always felt different from everybody else. We could tell he was an actor of some kind, we just couldn’t tell what role he was playing. Teddie doesn’t feel like that.  _

_ Makoto: So either he’s benign or even more dangerous than Akechi was. Not a particularly encouraging set of options, I must say. _

_ futababa: wait wait wait. his name is teddie? does he have any other names? _

_ Joker: His family name might be Hanamura, but I’ve never heard him call himself anything other than Teddie. _

_ futababa: hm _

_ futababa: okay _

_ Haru: If he’s kind enough to share milkshakes with children, I think it would be more likely for him to be benign, would it not? _

_ Joker: I think so, but we need to cover our bases.  _

_ futababa: teddie hanamura does not exist _

_ Joker: Oh, is that not his name? I can ask around if you’d like tomorrow. _

_ futababa: no that’s not what i meant _

_ futababa: he doesn’t exist. i did some searching and i managed to find a picture _

_ futababa uploaded twink.jpg _

_ futababa: this is him right _

_ Joker: Yeah, that’s him. _

_ futababa: he has no records past abt 6 years ago. he enrolled to yaso high under some proxy details but i traced them back and theyre def falsified  _

_ futababa: i think the school was paid off to accept it ive found a few weird rumours going around _

_ futababa: not sure who they were paid by id need more time to find it also it is super illegal so haha i definitely have never done that _

_ futababa: wait im encrypting this chat fuck yeah ive hacked banks before  _

_ Makoto: Don’t tell me that. _

_ futababa: haha it was a joke _

_ Makoto: …… _

_ futababa: anyway _

_ futababa: give me more time and ill see if i can figure out who paid off the school _

_ futababa: …. _

_ futababa: huh. i found some shit about inaba dated 2012 _

_ futababa: it is SUPER encrypted _

_ futababa: what the fuck i cant hack this _

_ futababa: who the FUCK coded this  _

_ Joker: Are you sure you should be doing this?  _

_ futababa: alibaba does not back down from a challenge but this is def something high up _

_ Makoto: Please don’t do something to earn yourself an arrest warrant. _

_ Joker: Yeah, that’s my job. _

_ Makoto: No, it isn’t. _

_ Joker: No, it isn’t. _

_ Makoto: Thank you. _

_ ann: i dont know anything about hacking but if futaba cant hack it thats pretty worrying _

_ futababa: i CAN hack it it will just take a while _

_ futababa: probably _

_ Makoto: Don’t wear yourself out, Futaba. It’s okay if you can’t hack everything, and if it’s under this level of protection, there’s probably some reason for it. Keep your research more to the legal sphere, please? _

_ futababa: no promises _

_ Makoto: Until we have more information, everybody should stay alert. Joker, you especially should keep an eye on Teddie, but don’t jump to conclusions. There’s too much up in the air right now. All we know is that he’s an oddity. _

_ Joker: Will do. _

_ futababa: hey if you want to see if he can understand mona i have a strat _

_ futababa: will dm it later you and mona can try it  _

_ Joker: Thanks, everybody. I’m going to bed, but Futaba and Makoto, keep me updated. If something urgent comes up, you know what to do. _

_ futababa: yep! _

_ Makoto: Good night, Akira. Love you _

_ ann: night! Love! _

_ ryuryu: go to sleep loser we love you _

_ inari: Rest well, and sleep knowing that you are one of the many objects of our passion _

_ Haru: Sleep well! Love you! _

Akira rolled over, a smile on his face despite everything. These were his Thieves, and whether or not there was a problem to solve, they’d be there to solve it with him. Morgana curled up beside him, and gently whacked him with a paw.

  
“Go to sleep, lover boy. It’s bedtime.” Akira nodded, and closed his eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> futaba, probably: don't forget to kudos, comment and subscribe
> 
> also i'm justicetom21 on tumblr if you want to call me cool or a loser or both, that's the easiest place to find me


	3. Investigation

_??????_

Akira was falling. The world around him warped and morphed, shifting between blinding yellows, muddy reds and putrid greens, a cacophony of colours accompanied by a symphony of winds rushing around his head.

Akira hit the ground, hard.

Akira placed his hand on the wall in front of him, a sleek wall of glass atop a table of stone. Beyond the glass was a towering hall, filled with rows and rows of similar glass cages. He could vaguely see plaques below the cages, and he peered at them, trying to read them. The words were difficult to make out, but it almost looked like-

“Akira! Get out of bed! Your father’s home!”

Akira woke with a start, sitting up with a lurch. An offended yowl told him that Morgana had, unfortunately, been on his chest when he woke, making for quite the rude awakening. 

“Sorry, Mona.”

Morgana, for his part, was exceptionally unimpressed.

* * *

_3/25. Morning_

Akira, still trying (and failing) to rub the sleep out of his eyes, was preparing cups of coffee for the family. His father - an unassuming man, quiet and intelligent, a standard businessman (or whatever he was) - sat at the table, stifling a yawn behind his hand. Akira’s mother seemed much more awake, preparing a nice breakfast for the trio. It was his father’s favourite - unsurprisingly - a meal he hadn’t had too much experience with, but a meal that Akira knew they all enjoyed.

“So this is your cat I’ve heard so much about?” Akira’s father peered at the disgruntled cat/ball of tired fur curled up on the couch, who pointedly curled even further into himself, trying his best to get back the rest so carelessly stolen from him.

“Don’t mind him, I scared him when I woke up and he’s upset with me. He’s normally more cheery than this.” Akira chuckled quietly, placing a cup of coffee in front of his father. He eyed the cup uncertainly, glancing between the coffee and his wife.

“Don’t worry, Ren, he’s mastered coffee, thanks to Sakura-san’s tutelage. He made good use of his time in Tokyo.” Ren - Akira’s father - cautiously took a sip. Akira watched, noting the tightened muscles in his jaw. The moment the coffee made contact with his tongue, a look of surprise spread across his face, vanishing a moment later. Akira felt a quiet sense of pride in that - it reminded him of Sojiro. He took another sip, placing the cup back down.

“Incredible work, Aki-bō, I’ve got no clue how you did it. You’ll have to show me sometime.” Akira’s hand went to the back of his neck, a slight smile coming to his face. 

“I agree, Aki-tan really does have skill with coffee, doesn’t he, sugar? I’ll make sure he makes some of his curry for you tonight, too, it’s wonderful.” Akira’s mother came over with a few plates and placed them on the table, leaning over and placing a kiss to the top of Akira’s head as she did. 

“It’s good to see how much you’ve grown up. Maybe sending you to Tokyo was the right idea after all.” Akira frowned slightly, but chose not to pursue the line of conversation. Unfortunately, his mother had different ideas.

“Honestly, he seems like a whole new person now, it’s incredible. I think Tokyo really changed him.” 

“I wasn’t sure about sending him to Tokyo, but it seems to have worked out in the end.”

_Wasn’t sure, huh? Didn’t seem like it to him at the time, but he wasn’t privy to conversations behind closed doors, so how would he know?_

“I’m sure we have better things to talk about than my time in Tokyo,” Akira said, wanting to shake the topic before he said anything he’d regret. “How have you been? What were you doing for work?” Akira asked. With the conversation successfully redirected, he began to eat his breakfast while his father launched into a very detailed (and incomprehensible, but he didn’t need to know that) explanation of… something to do with business relations. It’d been a long time since his whole family was together. He’d missed it.

* * *

_3/25. Early Morning_

“Ugh, you idiot! We need you for CC! Are you _blind_ ? There’s so many adds on the screen! Deal with them!” Futaba groaned quietly to herself, watching the - to put it much more nicely than she wanted to - absolute fucking noobs around her character wander around like chickens lost in a china shop. It was her own fault for playing so late - her normal team had already gone to bed, and she had just joined some random group for the raid because she was in the mood, and wow, she _regretted_ it. They were all so _useless_. At least she could order Ryuji around when he was being dumb, but these randos didn’t know the first thing about Eternal Punishment 2 Online and she didn’t care enough to set up voice for groups she didn’t know. Plus, her voice was too high pitched and feminine for that to go over well most of the time, so she was dodging two stones with one bird, or something.

Futaba hit her head, gently, against her desk, watching her ‘teammates’ as they completely and utterly screwed up the boss. She typed furiously, doing her best to salvage the raid with quick instructions, and, with very hard work on her part and the very limited cooperation of the team, they managed to (barely) win. She did her best to ignore that the boss was _universally_ agreed upon as a pushover, which was the only reason she’d been happy to join with this group of randos in the first place, but...

_Alibaba: i did so much of the work in that fight i EARNED the loot_

_Alibaba: gimme my fair share_

Loot distribution was always rough when she got into random raids, but it was always worse when the other members of the team were both _objectively_ bad at the game _and_ upset about being told that. She was beginning to get frustrated, and was legitimately considering working some Alibaba magic on their accounts, when the only actually competent member of the group spoke up.

_Jucia: I think Alibaba earned it._

_Jucia: Their instructions were the only reason we managed to get that raid done._

_Jucia: None of you were doing anything right before they started issuing instructions._

_Alibaba: thx you did a good job too tho_

_Jucia: You were clearly the brains of this operation, and we were lucky to win even with your assistance._

_Alibaba: *blush*_

Futaba liked this Jucia, they had a good head on their shoulders. And they were very nice to her. Which she could never complain about. The moment the loot was shared (begrudgingly, but in her favour) she headed out, but not before sending Jucia a whisper.

_Alibaba: hey ur pretty good how good r u_

_Jucia: I’m fairly skilled, I’d like to believe. I’ve been playing for a while._

_Alibaba: hm_

_Alibaba: can i quiz u_

_Jucia: You can if you want?_

_Alibaba: best aoe fusion spell_

_Jucia: In terms of raw power or ease of access?_

_Alibaba: u gave the right answer_

_Jucia: Oh, fair enough._

_Alibaba: ease of access is defo dashing strike_

_Alibaba: how do u do gods hand_

_Jucia: … Almighty + … High Pressure, I think? The name might not be right but I know the build I use._

_Alibaba: u right_

_Alibaba: time 4 the final question_

_Jucia: I hope it’s a good one._

_Alibaba: do u wanna go on raids in the future w me you seem cool_

_Jucia: Of course! You seem like an excellent teammate._

_Alibaba: pog_

_Alibaba: ill hit u up in future_

_Jucia sent Alibaba a friend request!_

_You are now friends with Jucia._

* * *

_3/28. Daytime_

“Hello there. Who might you be?” Haru looked the man up and down curiously, standing at the head of a small gaggle of awkward college students.

“I’m your substitute self-defense teacher for today. I’ve worked with Satonaka in the past and I was asked to come in to teach a class for you all.” Haru could tell at a glance that this man was strong. If it wasn’t for the defined arms held loosely by his sides, or the way his shirt tightly gripped his chest, she would be able to tell by the way he was standing. She couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but he had the stance of a fighter, and a trained one at that. She had no doubt that if she tried to attack him right now, she would lose, and lose badly at that. 

She would never do such a thing, obviously. As tempting as it would be to test her skills, not only did she not have her axe, but also, that would be morally wrong. And she’d lose. 

“What’s your name, sir?” one of the girls in the back piped up. Haru couldn’t quite remember her name - she was pretty, but she was a shy one who didn’t really seem particularly willing to engage in conversation, and when she’d attempted to engage her in conversation she’d been antisocial at best and downright rude at worst (and it wasn’t Haru’s fault!) - but she’d asked the question everybody was too awkward to ask.

“Oh, my name? The name’s Akihiko. Now, can we get this started? I’m not one for small talk.” Akihiko stepped back and stretched, eliciting a few sudden breaths from the gaggle gathered behind Haru. She was impressed, too, but likely not for the same reasons. Akihiko just had a well-defined musculature that was, potentially, the most natural she’d ever seen. He was bulky, and powerful, and she had no doubt that if some of her more masculinely-inclined friends were present, their gasps would’ve joined the group. Makoto was the bulkiest person she was interested in, but she respected the taste.

* * *

Akihiko(-senpai, but he’d refused to allow anybody to call him that) was a good teacher, even if she hadn’t been sure what to expect at first. He was tougher on them than Satonaka-senpai was, but he was also much more down-to-earth and clear with his teachings... Well, at least as far as she was concerned. A few of the other students had left already, citing fatigue or ‘personal problems’, but Haru overheard their complaints that Akihiko ‘expected too much from them’ and he taught for a level far beyond them. Haru couldn’t really tell, because it seemed simple to her, she also had a much greater depth of understanding for combat than the average young adult.

She wiped sweat from her forehead and stood up straight, carefully watching Akihiko standing across from her. Some of the other students had noticed her skill, and they eagerly needled the two to have a practice match. She wasn’t sure of the idea - and Akihiko clearly wasn’t either - but neither of the two could figure out how to properly refuse the suggestion. Peer pressure was a powerful foe. She dropped into a fighting stance (and pointedly ignored a few gasps - it seemed Akihiko wasn’t the only one with a few fans) and prepared to fight.

* * *

“You’re good, but you get distracted too easily.” Akihiko was looking down at her with a thoughtful expression. “You fight like you’re expecting backup.” Haru was on the floor, but Akihiko was sweating. She’d made him work for it. That was a win in her books. She clambered to her feet, Akihiko’s eyes never leaving her.

“Thank you very much for your feedback. I’ll keep it in mind in the future.” Haru gave a practiced smile to him, feeling laid bare by his intense gaze. She was momentarily concerned it was something… worse, but she had enough experience to determine that if there were any distorted desires lying behind Akihiko’s mask, he was hiding them with greater aptitude than she’d ever seen before. She didn’t quite trust him, but she didn’t feel like she needed to be wary.

“Do you have any close friends?” Akihiko’s expression was devoid of guile or snark - it seemed like he didn’t think anything of the question he asked. Haru nearly bit her tongue to hold off the response she’d usually try to give to that sort of question, and simply asked:

“Excuse me?” 

“This sort of practice would be done much more effectively if you brought a friend along,” Akihiko stated. “It would have to be somebody you trust deeply, but they’d be able to train with you much more effectively than Satonaka or I could ever hope to do.” Akihiko’s face was unwavering, meeting her eyes with a stark gaze that… felt familiar, in a way she couldn’t quite place. She shook off the strange sensation and thought for a moment.

“I suppose I could convince one of my friends to come along, but why do you ask me, specifically?” 

Akihiko placed a hand on his chin in thought.

“You seem like you have… not potential, but a skill I think deserves to be honed. To be honest, Satonaka mentioned you to me when she asked me to teach this class.”

Haru raised her eyebrows. “Satonaka-senpai mentioned me, specifically?”

“She did,” Akihiko said. “Come over here with me for a second, I want to talk to you privately.” He stepped back and walked off to the far side of the gym, leaning against the wall casually and waiting for her to respond. Haru hesitated a moment, but jogged over.

“Can I help you with something?” she asked.

Akihiko fixed her with a serious look. “I’ve worked with Satonaka for a few years now, on various projects, and for work-related reasons I’d really appreciate it if you could make it a point to come here, and try to bring your friend if at all possible.”

“... Are you trying to get something out of us?” Haru narrowed her eyes slightly, scanning over the man in front of her.

“What?” Akihiko asked, a look of legitimate surprise on his face. “No, of course not. Look, I’m a busy man, and I don’t know how to convince you. You’re skilled, and Satonaka and I both want to see you hone that skill into something stronger.” Akihiko’s expression was tense. 

Haru’s trained eye saw traces of a familiar hope in his eyes. He was looking for something more than what he was asking, but she couldn’t figure out _what_ he was looking for. It wasn’t anything Okumura related, she was pretty sure - her identity was, while not a secret, hardly something that was spread around, and she’d avoided mentioning her family name to anybody - but it was clear that there were ulterior motives at play.

“... Alright, I think I can do that,” Haru said. “I’ll see about getting Mako-chan to come with me in the future. Are you going to be coming to future sessions?” She wasn’t sure what he was trying, but she didn’t see a reason not to play along, at least for now.

Akihiko shrugged, an almost imperceptible tenseness in his shoulders dropping. Haru was right, she was certain of it. “I’ll swing by every so often, but I don’t have as much free time as Satonaka, with her daily classes and all. She’s better at this sort of thing, anyway. She always helped out the other trainees at the academy.” Haru quietly filed this information away in the business negotiation side of her brain, placing a mental sticky note on it to ask Futaba to look into these two for her. 

“Thank you for your time today,” she said. “Do you have any other requests for me?” 

Akihiko paused for a moment, legitimately considering the question. He shook his head. “No, but do you have any questions about today’s training?” 

“... I do, actually.” Haru paused, making sure Akihiko was listening before she continued. “How did you determine I fought as if I expected backup?”

Akihiko stopped. He thought, yet again - he was a very thoughtful individual, apparently, but Haru would’ve liked it if he could respond to a question without a 10-30 second gap between question and answer - before responding.

“You’re… not reckless, when you fight, but you’re more aggressive than you should be when fighting alone. You fight as if to leave your opponent open to a follow-up from a teammate, rather than to win the fight for yourself. You hit hard, but it’s as if you never expect to be hit back.” 

Haru had to concede that he had a point, and, well, it made sense. “Thank you for your feedback. You sound very knowledgeable about this topic.” 

Akihiko, for the first time in the day, looked slightly… embarrassed? 

“I am. I’m speaking from experience a little. I developed some bad fighting habits in teenage years that I had to work to fix, and I’d be happy to help you do the same.” 

Haru and Akihiko laughed, quietly, before exchanging a firm handshake. Haru exited the gym quietly, lost in thought, while Akihiko leaned against the wall and watched her walk out the door. 

* * *

_3/31. Afternoon_

Akira was a man with a plan and a bear to scare. He watched, draped in the shadows of a food stand as the red, white and blue orb toddled around, handing out balloons and gift vouchers to children. He wouldn’t let a single chance slip past him today.

Beside him, Morgana was equally ready, pacing around and keeping a lookout. He was staying extra quiet today, not wanting the slightest hint of a sound to give away their position. Some of the children filtered out, and the Junes food court slowly became more and more vacant. Akira stepped forward and peeked around the corner, scanning for anybody who would get in the way before motioning to Morgana behind him.

The two slipped out from their cover, quietly splitting paths to capture the bear. Akira made eye contact with Morgana and held up a hand to wait. Just like they’d planned, both parties paused, the bear blissfully unaware of the situation he was about to find himself in. Akira scanned the surroundings once again, ensuring nothing would get in the way. No manager? No errant customers? No other employees? Nothing. He held up his hand, and counted down with his fingers. 3. 2. 1.

“Look to your left!”

“Boo!”

Teddie jumped, turning from left to right to right to left, trying to find his mystery assailants. He jumped forward and turned on a dime, reorienting himself in an instant, with an agility Akira was legitimately impressed by. If it wasn’t such an ironic description, he’d almost call it cat-like.

“What? Who? Where?” Teddie was frazzled, even more so upon noticing that his attackers were… an employee, and a cat? Teddie blinked, looking around, likely for actual threats, rather than the two standing in front of him. Akira smiled gently, shaking his head.

“Sorry, I saw you standing out here and I wanted to see if I could sneak up on you.” Teddie glared at him - as much as a giant teddy bear suit could glare - and crossed his arms.

“That’s not beary nice! You gave me a fright! What would have happened if I’d turned around and given you a taste of my claws?” 

“Aren’t bears supposed to be slow? I could’ve dodged it.”

“I’m a big fast bear! You’re just lucky I’m used to Yosuke scaring me around here, otherwise you would’ve actually needed those glasses!” Akira raised an eyebrow at the bear, clearly unimpressed.

“I don’t think cutting out an employee’s eyes would be very good for business, Teddie.”

“It would have been justified!”

“Besides, I don’t think losing your eyes makes you need glasses. Anyway, did you even hear what I said?”

“... It wouldn’t be good for business?” 

Akira groaned. This bear was going to be the death of him. “No, when I scared you.”

“... uh....” Did he really not hear? Legitimately? Why was this _so_ hard?

Akira tried again. “Which way did I even come from, or were you not paying attention?”

“The.. left? No, the right. Right? Left? Backwards?” The bear gave what Akira assumed was supposed to be a smile, behind the suit.

Akira gritted his teeth, forcing the smile to stay on his face. He couldn’t tell whether the bear was playing dumb, or if he was actually this stupid. 

This was not the first time this week he’d tried this. In fact, it was not the second, or even the third. Futaba had suggested tricking the bear into implicating himself by something he heard that he shouldn’t have - by having Akira and Morgana speak at the same time - but no matter what they tried, it just wouldn’t work. Maybe they were wrong, and Teddie just had a really weird perfume. Maybe they were right, but he just couldn’t understand Morgana. 

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” Teddie had the head of his suit off, and the beautiful blond below stared at him with sparkling blue eyes full of worry. His pale skin reflected the light with an incredible sheen, and- _focus_ , Joker. 

“It’s nothing, I was just expecting you to have a better reaction. Sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that. It just seemed funny.” Thankfully for Akira, people loved to mess with the mascot, making his repeated attempts at badgering - or should that be bearing? - the thing just an addition to what was likely a long and tiring day.

Teddie rolled his eyes, wandering over and gently whacking Akira over the head with a fluffy blue hand. “I don’t mind, just don’t do it again. Otherwise you’ll have to find out just how fast a real grizzly bear can be!” He put his hands up like claws and growled, an exceptionally amusing image given the juxtaposition of the size of his head to the size of his body. 

Akira shook his head, gave a wave, and walked off. Morgana followed quietly, looking back at the bear every so often with a look that sent chills down Teddie’s spine.

That was close.

* * *

_??????. Late Night_

“Report, everybody. What did you find?” They were seated at a round table, but their leader was pacing around the room with a rare nervous energy. She just couldn’t find it in herself to sit still, given the current case.

“Uh…”

“Who should go first?”

“I don’t care. Takeba, you were the first one to make contact, weren’t you?” She looked, unimpressed, at the woman sitting sleepily with a cup of coffee beside her. She cleared her throat, and Takeba sat up, shaking her head and getting into work mode.

“Alright. I don’t have any clear confirmation, but she definitely feels familiar. I don’t know what it is, and this could definitely be me reading into it too much, but we get along super well. She’s got a clear head, and I tried to sneak looks at her phone, but she keeps it safe. The best chance I had was the first day, and since I couldn’t unlock it, all I got was her lockscreen picture. I can, at least, say that she definitely knows the other members we’re suspicious of. They’re not her only friends, judging from the picture, but they’re among them.” Takeba sat back in her chair, taking a deep drink of coffee - a reward for her report, perhaps?

“Good job, Takeba, you did as well as you could have given the situation. Keep up contact as best you can, I’ll make sure you get more sessions scheduled with her. Now, what about you, Yamagishi?” 

The girl smiled gently up at her friend, playing with a neat blue braid.

“How formal of you, Mitsuru-senpai. I know this is official business, but you’ve known us all far too long for that, don’t you think?” 

Mitsuru shook her head at Yamagishi, who returned a steady gaze and an almost impertinent smile. “I already told you this was being recorded for official use, Yamagishi, I’m going to keep it professional. Now, can you get on with your report?” 

“If you say so,” Yamagishi chuckled gently, shaking her head slightly. “I talked to Alibaba online, and I’ve been working on getting closer with her. She’s very skilled at everything I’ve seen her do, and following a few trails gives me an impression that she’s every bit the hacker we thought she was. I’m not sure, because I can’t actually track anything back to her, but I have good reason to believe she was the one behind the incidents.”

“And why is that?”

“Some of the other people on the server got into an argument with her, and said some quite offensive things to the two of us. Conveniently, before the night was over, their accounts were permanently banned.”

“Are you sure this wasn’t due to typical administrative services?”

“Unfortunately, the moderator team of Eternal Punishment 2 Online reports that it has a minimum delay of two days for any non-severe reports due to a large player-base and a smaller staff. For any kind of response of that speed, you’d need to severely break the game.”

“Hm, interesting. Anything else?”

“She’s quite unique. I don’t think I’ve ever talked to anybody like her before. I also haven’t been able to learn her real name from her, despite the frequency of our conversations, so she’s careful about separating Alibaba from her 'IRL' identity.” 

Mitsuru hummed quietly to herself, taking in this information and cataloguing it. She nodded, slowly, before turning to the third member of the table.

“What about you, Sanada?” 

‘Sanada’ chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ve heard you call me that in a long time, Mitsuru. But I can give my report on Haru, if you’d like.” 

Mitsuru rolled her eyes, and gestured for ‘Sanada’ to continue. 

“She has notable combat experience, and absolutely knows how to handle herself in a fight. Additionally, she fights as if expecting a team to back her up, which would fit with what we know of her suspected activities. She’s aware of those around her, and I’m concerned that she may be suspicious of me despite my best attempts to be subtle.”

“Yeah, like you know how to be subtle.”

“I’ve practiced! I’m better at it than I used to be!”

“Don’t interrupt him, Takeba.”

“Geez, alright, I won’t do it again.” A quiet laugh sounded from the other side of the table, which Mitsuru steadfastly ignored.

“As I was saying, she knows what she’s doing, and she’s hyper aware of the people around her. She’d make an excellent ally on the battlefield, and a terrifying enemy. According to a recent report from Satonaka, one of her closest friends is one Makoto Niijima, and their ability to fight together is ‘awesome’, apparently.”

“... Interesting. Anything else?”

“Not as far as I can recall, no.”

“Thank you very much, all of you. Now, for our final member?” All eyes turned to the final member of the quintet, who was sitting quite a distance from the others, potentially due to a lack of familiarity or perhaps due to her own reticence.

“Indeed. I conducted thorough research on all members of the police and SIU involved in the incident, and after carefully analysing the vast majority of those who had some degree of investigative or administrative power during and after the incident, I believe the evidence reveals two clear points we need to investigate.” She placed a folder on the table, opening it to reveal a set of dossiers.

“First of all, one Goro Akechi should be investigated. Missing since early December, the second Detective Prince had numerous ties to the case, being both tied heavily to one Masayoshi Shido, and according to some of the more hidden police reports, being the exclusive reason why the leader of the Phantom Thieves could be found in the first place.” She passed over the dossier to the other members of the table, who flipped through it curiously.

“However, our second target is much more notable. She has both a close relationship to a potential suspect and a history of being involved in cases relating to the current incident. She was involved in the research on cognitive pscience, prosecuted the case against Masayoshi Shido, and, most notably…” The final member of the table held a card between her fingers, and tossed it to the centre of the table. All members of the little group craned over to see what it was, and a unified gasp filled the room, “received a calling card from the Phantom Thieves. We need to find Sae Niijima.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lil shorter than i intended it to be but the next chapter got really long so hey that probably makes up for it


	4. Troubles from Tokyo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a very big chapter also very very vague references to p5r i GUESS. one third tier persona name is dropped

_4/3. Daytime_

“So, hey.”

Akira looked up from his work as Hanamura walked towards him, followed by Teddie, toddling along like he was one bad step away from becoming a bowling ball and making them both into pins. 

“You said that you were out of town for a year when we hired you. What was up with that?” Hanamura asked, leaning casually against the wall. “I still saw your parents around the store every so often. Where’d you go without them?” 

Akira was surprised it’d taken him so long to ask - just about everybody else had asked right after he got back.

“Do you want the real answer or the nice answer I use to get people to stop asking questions?” Akira grinned, raising an eyebrow at Hanamura. He responded with a laugh and a shake of the head.

“The real answer, if that’s-”

“I want to hear both! Where’d Strawbeary go for a year?” Teddie chimed in. Akira and Hanamura shared a very tired eye roll. Dealing with Teddie wasn’t part of the job description, but after this he might just ask Hanamura to add it in.

“Get back to work, Ted. Aren’t you supposed to be convincing kids to annoy their parents or something?” 

“There aren’t any kids around right now! I can’t _bear_ to be alone around here! Please, don’t leave me!” Teddie dramatically fainted in Hanamura’s direction, who watched him splat on the ground with an unimpressed look on his face. 

Teddie’s mood and his costume both visibly deflated. “You were supposed to catch me!”

“No way, dude, that suit weighs too much with you and all your snacks in it.” Hanamura shrugged, seeming no more sympathetic than before. “I’m not gonna catch you.” 

“You’re so mean to me, Yosuke!” Teddie got to his feet and started flailing at Hanamura with all the fury of the average whiny inflatable bear.

Akira laughed, watching the comedy routine play out in front of him. He wasn’t sure how much of it was meant to embarrass Hanamura - or how much of it was just Teddie’s natural personality - but he wasn’t complaining about the show.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m so mean, and if you don’t quit it I’ll make you pay for all the Topsicles you ate today. What are you up to, fifteen?” Teddie near-prostrated himself on the ground with impressive speed for bear or human alike.

“No, no! I couldn’t bear that! Quick! Help me, Strawbeary!” With a harlequin flash, Teddie rolled over, literally bounced to his feet, and hid behind Akira. Without a moment of hesitation, Akira prodded at Teddie with his broom until the bear gave up and trudged back over to Hanamura, rubbing at his side sadly.

“Anyway, as we were saying?” Hanamura gave Teddie a pointed look, who stood up straight and saluted in return. Akira didn’t really follow, but he chalked it up to the two being weird.

“Right! Strawbeary-”  
  
“Are you really going to keep calling me that?” Akira mock-glared at the bear, raising his eyebrows and crossing his arms. 

Teddie - completely unintimidated, through either courage or stupidity - just grinned wide at him in return. “Absolutely! So, where were you last year?” 

Akira shook his head, amused at how stubbornly Teddie pursued the point.

“I was in Tokyo for the year.” Akira leaned on his broom, thinking. He tried to study Teddie’s body language, to little avail. The suit made it frustratingly difficult to get a read on him.. “Why do you ask?” 

“I’m just beary curious!” Teddie glanced over at Akira’s bag, where Morgana watched the trio through nearly-closed eyes. “Is Tokyo where you picked up your kitty?” 

An almost imperceptible huff told Akira everything he needed to know about how Morgana felt about being called ‘kitty’, but he held back his laugh. “Yeah. He was a stray who took a liking to me, so I took him in. I got attached to the little guy, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.” 

“Why’d you have to go to Tokyo, anyway?” Hanamura asked. “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to, man, but it’s a little weird for a high schooler to just spend a year in Tokyo without parents. Did you stay with your uncle or something? A friend of mine did something like that.” Hanamura’s voice was carefree, but there was a tinge of... concern?… behind his words.

Akira shook his head, idly spinning the broom in his hand. “No, I stayed with a… family friend. I’d never met him before, but now he’s kind of like a dad to me, honestly.” 

“That’s good to hear, dude,” Yosuke said. “But seriously, why’d you have to go? I heard rumours that something happened with your folks, but I didn’t want to pry back then.” Akira didn’t answer for a moment, playing with the broom as he thought.

For just a moment, Yosuke thought he could see something behind Akira’s gray eyes. It was a quiet, tired pain that flashed with a flame of anger. It crossed his face for just a moment, and vanished as quickly as it appeared. A wry smile replaced it, but Akira’s voice held thinly-veiled contempt behind it.

“I saved a woman from a drunk man. He fell, said I pushed him, sued me, and I had to go to Tokyo for a year on probation. It wasn’t my parents’ fault, but if I didn’t go, they wouldn’t be able to show their faces around town.” 

Yosuke almost regretted asking. He shook his head, not entirely sure how to respond.

“Shit, man, that sounds awful,” he said. “Do you know what happened to the guy who sued you? Want me to go beat him up? We’ll call it a Junes special.” 

Akira looked legitimately thrown off by the offer, but laughed and waved his hand in response. “Don’t worry, he got dealt with,” he said. A small smile came across his face, and he almost looked… proud? “Luckily for me, the Phantom Thieves changed his heart. It was a pretty big deal - their calling card was broadcast all over the city.” 

The cat gave a quiet meow, and Akira glanced over at it. When he looked back, every trace of the smile was gone, replaced with his usual stoic expression. Damn.

“That was Shido, right?” Yosuke asked. “We didn’t get a lot of coverage on the Phantom Thieves out here in the sticks, but I know it was a pretty big deal pretty much _everywhere_ else. A few of my friends work in the city, and they never stopped mentioning the new Thieves merch or target. It was pretty cool, though, right?”

“Yeah, we thought it was cool too, especially Shido’s calling card. Really stylish. Bold, too.” Akira smiled when mentioning his friends, small and nostalgic. Ah, to be young again. It reminded Yosuke of himself, in a way. 

“Yeah, I know, right? When I watched the card back all of their outfits looked so cool, at least from what we could see of them. I liked their leader’s outfit the most, though. What did you think of him?” 

Akira’s expression didn’t waver for a moment, simply shrugging. “I liked his mask. He looked pretty cute, too, but we didn’t get to look at enough of him. Shame, too, I would’ve loved to know who the Phantom Thieves were.” 

“Hey, you were in Tokyo, maybe you met them and didn’t know it. They helped you out, didn’t they?” Yosuke laughed, leaning against the wall casually. Teddie was watching, uncharacteristically silent.

“I suppose they did. If I ever get the chance, I’ll be sure to thank them in person.” Akira’s smile went soft again, and he just rolled his eyes at the quiet meow from his bag. Yosuke couldn’t help but stare every time the cat made a noise. It was weird, and he almost had to believe…

“Who cares about the Phantom Thieves!” Teddie’s loud voice broke both Akira and Yosuke from their reflective stupors. “We want to know about you, Strawbeary!” Akira chuckled at Teddie’s antics. A smile came back across his face, but it wasn’t the same as before.

“I mean, it wasn’t that interesting. I was just in Tokyo for a year, what did you expect me to do?”

“You clearly made some friends, at the very least. There must’ve been some social links you formed too, right?” 

_This man is more than he seems. Do not let thy guard down, mine other self._

Akira reeled from the sudden mental intrusion, but Satanael was silent again. What in the _world_ did that mean? He looked Hanamura up and down. He already didn’t trust him - he was Teddie’s brother (adoptive, at least?) and that was suspicious on its own - but what was it that made Satanael so wary of him? Satanael showed no sign of awakening again to answer that, so Akira did his best to make it seem like he wasn’t just lost in his own world.

“I made a lot of really good friends in Tokyo, yeah,” Akira agreed. “While I love them all, I’m not really sure you want to hear about them. They’re not exactly normal.” 

If Hanamura had noticed he was distracted, he didn’t show it. He laughed instead, but it felt like he was laughing at his own private joke as much as Akira’s comment.

“Nah, man, I’d love to hear about your friends.” Hanamura’s tone was almost as soft as Akira’s, as he stared into the middle distance. “There’s nothing better than hearing somebody talk about the people they love, y’know? Leaves you feeling warm and fuzzy, or something like that.” 

“Warm and fuzzy like Teddie!” Teddie bounced around the room, careening off the walls and almost directly into Hanamura. 

“If I wanted to talk about my friends, I know I wouldn’t mention any bears on account of how _freakin’ annoying_ they are!” Hanamura shot Teddie a pointed glare, who returned it with a growl and a few swipes of his claws in the air. Akira sighed. It almost reminded him of Morgana and Ryuji. 

… God, he missed Ryuji. School hadn’t even started and he was already looking forward to summer. At least Golden Week was soon enough.

“Hey, dude, you still there?” Akira snapped back to reality, seeing Hanamura’s amused expression. He _really_ needed to stop zoning out in the middle of conversations. It was becoming a problem. 

“Sorry, I was thinking about Tokyo and stuff.” 

“About the friends you need to tell us about?” Hanamura paused, looking Akira up and down. “Or at the very least the gym you went to, because, _damn_ , you picked up some _muscle_ while you were gone.” 

Akira looked down at himself, surprised. He wouldn’t call himself particularly... muscle-bound. Sure, he was strong, but it didn’t really show, did it?

“I went to the gym sometimes, but it wasn’t a regular thing, I mostly just trained with friends. If you think I’ve got muscles, you should see them instead. Most of them look pretty small, but when they’ve got their clothes off, they’re shredded.” 

Hanamura raised an eyebrow.

“You see your friends without clothes a lot?” Shit.

“Uh… Yes? Yes, I do. Do you have a problem with that?” Joker made eye contact with Hanamura, who burst out laughing the moment he realised Akira was serious.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna judge. I’ve got friends who stray from the whole monogamy thing. It’s complicated and I don’t really want to know the details, but don’t worry, man.” Akira let out a deep breath. He really didn’t need to get as defensive about it as he was, but… something about Hanamura made him want to talk about his friends. He really should’ve just avoided the topic, but, all’s well that ends well, right? 

Teddie knocked him from his reverie with a flourish and a shout. “Yukiko is great at scoring!” 

Yosuke looked around, checking the surroundings before breathing a sigh of relief. “Ted... you’re lucky she’s not here, otherwise you’d need to run real fast.” 

Akira didn’t understand the joke, but he knew the tone well enough to know exactly what Hanamura was talking about. He wondered if this ‘Yukiko’ had ever used an axe or brass knuckles.

“So, hey, kid, you wanna talk more about your partners?” Hanamura waggled his eyebrows enticingly. “I’ll tell ya something embarrassing about my boyfriend if you do!” Akira… didn’t blush. He absolutely, did not, not at all, blush even the slightest bit when confronted directly about his collection of partners. Hanamura - who became Yosuke by the end of the conversation - would not say anything to the contrary if he knew what was good for him. 

* * *

_4/3. Afternoon_

Akira could hear Rise’s laughter from outside Marukyu Tofu, and the moment he entered the store, he froze. 

Rise was talking with an absolutely _beautiful_ woman. A river of long black hair flowed around her red dress, and-

As if timed purposefully, Cybele and Ishtar went off like a bad collection of alarm clocks, their voices calling in unison and amplifying one another. That was new.

“Akira-kun!” Rise bounced slightly on her feet, positively radiating an aura of cheer. “Come in, come in!” She turned back to the woman and gestured over towards Akira. “This is Akira-kun, Yukiko. I’ve mentioned him before, remember?” 

“You have,” Yukiko said, turning to face Akira. “Nice to meet you, Akira-kun.” Yukiko held out her hand and Akira shook it, flashing her his signature max-charm smile.

“So, you’re friends with Rise-chan?” Yukiko asked. Akira dropped his hand back to his side, glancing towards Rise, who beamed at him.

“She is!” She chimed in. “We’ve been friends for years!” Her enthusiasm wasn’t dampened in the slightest by Yukiko’s rolled eyes.

“I can speak for myself, Rise.” Yukiko smiled gently as she looked at her friend. “She’s right, we’re friends. It’s coming up on six years, isn’t it?” 

“It’ll be our anniversary!” Rise finger-gunned at Yukiko, who placed her face in her hand.

“No, Rise, our anniversary is at the end of the month, and it’s only our _third_.” Yukiko’s tone was dry, but laced with a deep, underlying affection that Akira recognized. He employed it frequently himself.

“Oh! I haven’t introduced you two properly yet.” Rise jogged over to the duo, who were standing next to each other awkwardly. “Yukiko, Akira-kun. Akira-kun, this is Yukiko Amagi. She runs the Amagi inn. You’ve probably seen her on TV before!” 

Akira bowed ostentatiously. “I’ve never been to the inn myself, but it’s hard to not hear stories about the ‘beautiful young proprietress’ of the Amagi inn.” Akira doubled down on his charming smile as he talked, earning an amused chuckle from Yukiko.

“Aren’t you quite debonair, there?” Yukiko laughed, before glancing around the shop. “Sorry, were you coming for some tofu?”

“Sort of,” Akira replied, “but I was mostly looking for Rise-chan.” Rise immediately set about preparing the usual for Akira, but tilted her head questioningly in his direction. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing urgent. I’d rather learn more about Yukiko-san here first.”

“I don’t really know that there’s much to say about me…” Yukiko looked hesitant, apparently searching for a conversation topic. “Oh! But feel free to call me Yukiko-chan; -san feels like I’m back at the inn.” Akira nodded, searching for his own topic to break the awkward lapse of discussion.

“Oh! Yukiko-chan, I was actually chatting with Teddie and Yosuke-san earlier, and they mentioned your name. Are you all close?” 

Rise slid into the conversation with grace, handing Akira a bag of tofu. “They’re the reason Yukiko and I know each other, actually! We’re all part of the same friend group.”

“We’ve been called thick as thieves before, even.” Yukiko laughed quietly to herself, as if making a joke nobody else understood.

“Did you all meet in high school?” Akira asked.

“Yep! There are… about eight of us, plus a few extras who tag along with our leader.” Rise counted off on her fingers as she spoke.

“That’s how my friends work too. It’s fun, isn’t it?” Akira was beginning to understand why his Personae went off so frequently around here. They even had a leader - thick as thieves could be right.

“I quite enjoy it. How were Yosuke and Teddie? Hard at work, or hardly working?” Yukiko asked, laughing - yet again - at her own joke.

“A pair of clowns, as always. Oh!” Akira remembered Yosuke’s reaction to Teddie’s joke a moment too late, and he almost regretted beginning the train of thought. Yukiko’s expression was too curious for Akira to ignore, and he couldn’t say he _wasn’t_ curious too.

“Is something wrong?”

“So…” Akira felt like he might be swinging a bat at a hornet’s nest, but… “Teddie mentioned something while we were talking, and I have to ask. Is… scoring an inside joke with you?” 

Yukiko froze, any trace of joy entirely evaporated and replaced with a cold… fury. That was pure, undeniable rage. Rise clapped a hand over her own mouth, either in shock or to hide a smile - Akira couldn’t quite tell, but the hints of a grin gave him an idea of which of the two it was.

“That _bear_ is going to be the death of me,” Yukiko groaned, putting her face in her hands. “Listen, that was a joke from years ago, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t repeat it to anybody else.”

“He just had to say it, didn’t he?” Rise’s arm was around Yukiko’s shoulder, patting her gently. 

“Sorry, I didn’t-” Akira’s apology was cut off by a curt shake of the head from Yukiko.

“It’s fine. I appreciate you telling me. I think I’ll take my leave now, actually.” Akira recognised the aura emanating from her and recoiled in the same way he did when Haru had an axe in her hands, or when Makoto heard that Ryuji had procrastinated on _another_ assignment until the night before it was due.

Yukiko turned and began to walk towards the door, but she halted on hearing Rise’s voice. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Yukiko-chaaaan?”

“You’re right! Sorry.” Yukiko turned, placed a kiss on Rise’s cheek, and blazed off on a mission. Rise blushed slightly, watching as - her girlfriend, Akira assumed - took off. Akira had a horrible feeling that it was hunting season.

“I… actually meant that she forgot her tofu, but that works too,” Rise murmured with a giggle.

* * *

After Yukiko’s tofu was secured for ‘whenever she realised and came back for it’, Rise threw a piercing glare in Akira's direction, and Akira felt almost as if she was looking straight through him. She didn’t say anything, but her posture indicated that she was waiting on Akira.

“Do you want to know what I came here to talk to you about?” Akira’s tone was light.

“I’ve been dying to know since you mentioned it!” Rise’s expression contorted into a sorrowful one, appearing for a moment as if the fate of the world rested on her getting her curiosity satiated. “What’s up, Akira-kun? Does Ted owe you money or something?” 

Akira laughed, his hand going to the back of his neck. “No, no, nothing like that. Yosuke-san mentioned a couple stories about his friends, and they reminded me of you.” 

“Oh, I bet he has a lot of stories. Did he tell you the one where we managed to whip up a band that could only play one song?”

“He did, actually. It explains why they all just jumped into the crowd back then. I was a lot younger then, but watching that was a lot of fun.” 

Rise actually clapped her hands together, delight plain on her face. “Oh, I’m glad you were there! It was a bit of an ordeal, but the looks on the kids’ faces made it worth every second.”

Akira laughed quietly, fondly remembering the concert he had attended while he was younger. He vaguely recalled perching on a fence, struggling to see the band due to the distance he had to keep from the stage to not be crushed under the crowd. Thinking back on it, he felt sure that it wasn’t safe - Makoto absolutely would not approve - but he had plenty of practice with climbing around from a few summer camps, so his younger self was more than confident.

“So, there was something you wanted to ask me?” Rise’s question was a pin to his reflective bubble, shaking him back to reality.

“Well… It’s not really important, or anything, so, it’s not really worth asking…” Akira trailed off, prompting a scoff from the woman across from him.

“Uh huh. What’s wrong? Cat’s got your tongue? That’s impressive, considering he’s been neatly tucked away in that bag of yours.” Morgana meowed a quiet greeting back to Rise, who giggled, but snapped back to staring down Akira.

Akira, for his part, regretted several of his decisions from the past day. He was supposed to be Joker, the ineffable leader of the Phantom Thieves, but apparently not even Joker could escape the relationship nerves. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and composed himself.

“So… I had a theory, from some of what Yosuke-san said, but… Idols aren’t allowed to date, are they?” Akira glanced at the door as a way of explanation.

“They aren’t!” Rise’s expression was innocent, but the slight traces of a smirk told Akira that he was going to have to pursue the question for an answer.

“So… Yukiko-chan… Are you two…?” 

“Dating? In love? Partners in crime? Arch-enemies?” Rise decided to stop hiding her smirk, apparently.

“Are you two together?” Akira finally settled on asking. 

Rise’s expression went thoughtful for a moment, before she nodded quietly to herself. “Together would be the best way to put it. Why do you ask?” 

“Well…” Akira trailed off. Rise was _not_ going to offer any information herself, huh? “Yosuke-san mentioned that… a few of his friends… they were…”

“Hot?” 

“No! Well, yes, but that wasn’t what I was going to say.”

“Aww, you charmer, you.” Rise fanned herself, swooning slightly.

“You’re not making this easy, you know.”

“It’s okay, I won’t bite. What’s up?” Rise’s expression went serious again for a moment, and she met his eyes with a caring gaze. Ishtar, in the back of his mind, murmured words of encouragement.

“... He mentioned that his friends… weren’t monogamous? Would that…?” Akira trailed off awkwardly. Rise glanced towards the door, idly, before beaming at him.

“That would be me! Not just me, but I’m sort of the one who started the whole thing. Why do you ask?”

“I’m… in a similar situation, and I was looking for some advice?” Akira was hesitant, but Rise was his friend and - more importantly - the only person he could possibly expect to find in the area who would have any idea of how to help him.

Rise’s expression was static for a moment, and Akira could almost hear gears whirring in her head, before she spoke. “Come over here, sit down with me.” Rise gestured for him to follow, leading him behind the counter and pulling a small table and set of chairs out for the pair. She sat down, and Akira awkwardly did the same. “How many do you have?” Akira blinked. That was not what he was expecting. Well, too late to back out now.

“About five or so? It’s not, like, we haven’t, we haven’t gone through and explicitly named anything, but-” He was cut off by Rise’s giggles, which quickly devolved into full-blown laughter.

“Five? I can see why you wanted advice, wow. We don’t really have explicit names for anything either, but I’ve got three girlfriends, sort of. We could figure out specifics, but it’s more fun this way.” Rise was still laughing in intermittent bursts, but she stood up, steadied herself, and looked him in the eyes. “So, what do you want advice with? I’m not the best with planning, but I’ve had enough schedules forced on me that I know the tricks.”

Akira let out a sigh of relief. 

“Feel like you got a weight off your chest?” Rise’s eyebrows were perked at him, a barely concealed smirk on her face. She was making fun of him a little bit, but he deserved it.

“Sorry, I’m just. Not used to it, y’know? Last year was a big year for... a lot of different reasons.” Akira bit his tongue, hoping that he wouldn’t get interrogated about his year for the second time that day.

“Seems like it! So what’s up, loverboy? Need a hand with all your dates?” 

“It’s just that Golden Week’s coming up, and I want to spend time with everybody, but I really don’t want any of them to feel left out, and I’d like to get them all gifts, too, and I’m just… not sure what to do. I figured you might have some ideas, considering you seem to be quite the lover. Not- not in that-” Rise laughed again, lightly flicking his forehead.

“Careful what you say, there! I am, but I don’t think that’s any of your business. But I’d be happy to help as much as I can.” Akira blushed a little. He was great at romance, but… individually. He loved his friends too much to let any of them feel left out, but that also took a lot of work.

“That’d be nice. I sorta messed up Valentine’s Day this year, and while I did my best to make up for it, I’d like to make sure this doesn’t go the same way, y’know?” 

“Oh, don’t you think you can get out of telling me that story! I’m not helping until you tell me every last detail, loverboy!” Akira sighed, internally. He should’ve known he wouldn’t get away with that.

“Alright, so it went like this...”

* * *

_2/13. Evening_

Akira stared at his phone, trying to keep his cool. Valentine’s Day was less than six hours away, and he’d forgotten about it entirely. He had messages from Ryuji, Yusuke, Ann, Makoto and Haru, and a full-day commitment to help out at Leblanc. Beside him, Morgana was being exceptionally unsympathetic to his plight. 

“Morgana, what do I do? I don’t want to choose between them, but Sojiro needs me to help tomorrow! I don’t have time to hang out with all of them!” 

“Just spend time with Lady Ann, obviously.” Morgana raised his paw to his mouth and began grooming, disinterested in Akira’s predicament .

Akira reached over and booped the cat, who recoiled, complaining.

“I’m not picking a favourite! Just because you have a crush doesn’t mean I’m going to forget about everybody else!” Akira spun his phone in his hand, trying to allay the desperation threatening to devour him whole.

“I know, I know, I was kidding! Relax, okay?” Morgana jumped up on Akira’s lap as he talked, patting his leg gently. “Maybe they’re all planning something for you. You were a little busy recently, so I wouldn’t put you in charge of tomorrow’s organisation, anyway. You could just ask them, you know.” Morgana was right, and they both knew it, but that didn’t make Akira feel any better.

“I can’t just ask them! It’s supposed to be a special day, and I’m our leader. I’m supposed to be the one doing things for all of them.”

“Ask Futaba, then. I’m sure she could help.”

“I think she’s actually trying to be a little romantic herself tomorrow - and besides, she’s like my little sister. I can’t ask her to help me with romance!”

“You didn’t have any problems asking the fortune teller for romantic help, did you?”  
  


“That’s different!” Was it different? Was there really that much of a difference between asking Futaba and Chihaya for advice? Either way, the result always felt like magic, but… No, wait, that wasn’t the point. He was arguing with his cat, so it _was_ different.

“Whatever. You’re digging your own grave, Akira.” Morgana huffed and wandered off to the other side of the bed. He was - perhaps understandably - still a little sensitive about the whole romance topic, given that he had a crush on one of the people Akira kissed frequently, but that didn’t help Akira any. 

He rolled onto his back, staring at his phone. He couldn’t invite them all over at the same time, could he? That wouldn’t feel right. Sure, they’d had plenty of time all together in the attic before, but this was different. He needed to make sure they all felt special.

Akira fell asleep _far_ later than he meant to that night, tossing and turning as he tried to think of a solution. His phone lay beside him, messages on hold, as he drifted off to a restless sleep.

* * *

_2/14. Evening_

Akira had a horrible feeling he was forgetting something. He’d overslept, and Morgana hadn’t woken him up, and he’d had to scramble to help Sojiro with the shop, and it had been just busy enough that he hadn’t time to figure out what he was forgetting. Morgana hadn’t been any help, either, giving him an entirely-undeserved cold shoulder.

“Oh, right, today’s Valentine’s Day,” Sojiro said. “No wonder there were so many guys bringing girls in here.” Sojiro stared at the door, murmuring mostly to himself. 

Oh. Right, it was Valentine’s Day, wasn’t it?

“Don’t you have anything exciting happening?” Sojiro asked, turning his attention to Akira. Akira froze. “I mean, you’ve been here nearly a whole year.” _It was Valentine’s Day today, wasn’t it?_ He couldn’t check his phone to see what was going on, he was busy washing dishes. 

“Y’know, when I was young, hoo boy…” Akira barely heard him over the thundering roar of his own heartbeat. That’s what he’d forgotten. That was why Morgana was giving him the cold shoulder. He deserved it after all. Akira finished up the dishes as fast as possible, rushing upstairs to check his phone.

Nothing. No messages. Everybody was still on hold - … _everybody was still on hold._ He put his face in his hands, trying his best to think of a solution. Could he just say he was busy? He couldn’t say that, it was _Valentine’s Day_ and he had plenty of time to prepare. Could he say he fell asleep and didn’t remember to reply? No, he had the entire day to reply, and it was his own fault he overslept. 

Maybe he could say Morgana stole his phone! 

…No.

Before he had time to over-analyse the situation further, Sojiro’s voice echoed from downstairs.

“You’ve got a visitor!” A visitor? Was it the Reaper, back for revenge? He’d almost welcome it right now.

* * *

“It’s okay, Futaba. You can do this.” A very nervous Futaba perched on a chair, a box of (slightly misshapen, but honestly pretty good) chocolates in front of her. They’d chased Sojiro out, very confused and slightly hurt by how vicious Futaba had been about it. She rocked back and forth a little on the chair.

“What if they’re not good enough?! What if she doesn’t like them?! What if I lose all my points and our relationship reverses and I have to spend days on fixing it?!” Futaba ran her hands through her hair. “She’s an elite gymnast! She probably got a hundred boxes of chocolate today!” 

Akira sighed, quietly. He didn’t actually know who Futaba had a crush on, but given she was ‘an elite gymnast’, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. Made sense - she was pretty, and Futaba’s age - but Futaba was absolutely starstruck. 

“It’s okay, Futaba, really.” Akira reached out, gently stroking her hair. “She’ll love it, I promise. Even if she got other chocolates today, none of them will be from anybody as close with her as you - unless Ann had plans she didn’t tell me about, but-” He regretted the joke immediately, watching Futaba curl even further into a ball.

“If Ann’s competing for her I don’t have a chance! She’s so pretty and charming and kind and beautiful and her skin is so smooth and-” 

“Futaba.” 

Futaba obviously also had a crush on Ann, but just about everyone he knew was at least a _little_ in love with Ann Takamaki. Ann, however, confided in him that she saw Futaba as more of a little sister because of how much younger she seemed, maturity-wise, so that one probably wouldn’t be reciprocated.

“I know, I know, I’m freaking out and I really don’t need to, I know, I just..” Futaba trailed off, looking like a very lost, very gay little puppy. Akira reached over the table, gently placing his hand on top of Futaba’s.

“It’s okay, Futaba. She accepted your invitation today, didn’t she?” He squeezed her small hand gently. “Now go and surprise her with your chocolates, I guarantee she’ll love them. I’ve known her the longest, haven’t I? I think I’d know.” 

Futaba took several deep breaths in and out, calming herself. She shook her head and tapped her hands on the sides of her face a few times.

“Alright! I can do this! Al Azif is with me! … And don’t say invitation like it’s something fancy! I just asked her to eat with me!”

Akira laughed, counting off on his fingers. “At a diner, on your own, just the two of you, on Valentine’s Day?” 

“Shut it! You’re not helping!”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to get there on your own?” Akira wasn’t _too_ worried, Futaba had grown up a lot, but it never hurt to make sure.

“Of course! I’ve levelled way past that boss. I can solo it now, easy!” Futaba’s grin was infectious, and Akira shook his head fondly, reaching over the table to poke her nose. 

“Alright, whatever you say,” Akira laughed. “I’d tell you to come home before midnight, but you’re too much of a baby to do anything with her that you shouldn’t, so I’m not worried.” Futaba’s face flushed bright crimson, and she spluttered trying to come up with a response, before giving up and retreating towards the door.

“You forgot your chocolates!” 

Futaba turned back around, ran back to the table, grabbed the chocolates, and then repeated her loud, ostentatious walk to the exit. Akira laughed, watching as Morgana silently followed her out. She’d probably be okay without him, but Morgana was definitely a mother hen around Futaba. 

* * *

_2/15. Evening_

Akira was a little nervous. He’d gone to bed pleased about a job well done, and woken up to a flood of very excited messages from Futaba (she’d had much more success than she expected, and had apparently even gotten a ‘k*ss’) but… silence from everybody else. The entire day had passed, and he’d seen nothing. He was beginning to wonder if he was dreaming when Sojiro rushed into the store.

“Hey, what’d you do…? Outside the store, is that…” Sojiro trailed off as the Leblanc bell rang.

* * *

Akira stared down the quintet awkwardly. Ryuji couldn’t meet his eyes, Yusuke seemed… perfectly normal, if a little confused, Ann was angry, Makoto was clearly upset, and Haru looked more cheerful than normal, which meant she was absolutely furious. 

“So…” Akira began, regretting it before it came out of his mouth.

“So.” Makoto’s voice was frosty.

“So,” Ann muttered through gritted teeth.

“So…” Ryuji murmured, kicking at the floor, staring to the side.

“So!” Haru exclaimed, the syllable clipped as if bitten off.

“So?” Yusuke was very clearly not following, looking between everybody, bewildered. Akira had a feeling they picked him up and dragged him along without any explanations or context. 

“... I’m sorry, guys, I can explain.” Akira held his hands up defensively, feeling as if he were on the receiving end of a Hold Up.

“I’m sure you have a _great_ explanation that will make everything better, don’t you?” Ann nearly hissed, echoes of Panther coming through in her expression that made Akira shake in his slippers. 

“I’m so sorry,” Akira whimpered, “a lot of things happened, and it’s my fault, but I just forgot, and it was too late to fix, and then I had to help Futaba-” 

Makoto’s eyes opened in surprise, before narrowing.

“Can you explain all of these things? You had better make it quick, though, I’m not sure I’m willing to give you time to come up with any excuses.” 

Akira sighed (internally, of course - he didn’t want to risk it out loud) and began explaining, making absolutely sure to explain everything in as much detail as possible. If Makoto thought he was lying, then he wasn’t sure he was going to wake up tomorrow.

* * *

“So, I’m really sorry, but this is all a huge misunderstanding. It is my fault, and I promise I’ll try and make it up to you, but I didn’t forget about any of you, or anything like that.” 

Much to Akira’s relief, all of their faces had softened considerably, with Ann even laughing a little when he mentioned Futaba’s nervous ramblings. There was still an awkward energy in the room, but it seemed they all trusted him enough to believe it.

“Yeah, I had a feeling, man.” Ryuji’s hand was on his shoulder, bringing him in for a quick hug. “You just didn’t seem like the type to run off and abandon us, but… we saw you last night in here with somebody and… we thought the worst. Sorry, dude.” 

“I, for one, was not present at this gathering, and simply assumed that you had been too busy with Leblanc. I have, on many occasions, been so enamoured with a painting that I forgot the passing of days. Once, I even managed to forget to hand in an important assignment because I was too busy painting.” Yusuke’s plain statement earned a disappointed sigh from Makoto, but a few laughs from the rest of the group. Akira was glad he was there to take the tension off. 

“We’re sorry for assuming the worst, Akira. However, you really should have talked to us if you were concerned.” Haru had taken the longest to forgive him, he felt quite certain, but any trace of her previous anger was gone, replaced with a fond smile. 

“I will, I promise. Thank you all for believing me. Now,” Akira clapped, bringing in a little Joker flair, “should we try and figure out how to make up for yesterday?” 

The group laughed, and, crisis averted, headed up to the attic.

* * *

_4/3. Afternoon_

After telling a summarised (and talking cat-free) version of the Valentine’s Day Disaster, as it was affectionately known among the Thieves, Rise was nearly doubled over in laughter. Akira couldn’t blame her, but it was a little demoralising to see the composed Risette with tears in her eyes when he was the butt of the joke. 

“Sorry, I- I’ll- oh my god, you idiot, did you _really_? Oh, wow, and here I thought you might be cool-” Rise’s attempts to speak derailed into more laughter.

“Can you laugh about it more when I’m not in the room?” Akira sighed, trying to ignore the quiet mirth from his bag. Morgana was absolutely insufferable the week after the VDD, and it seemed that he was going to make Akira regret it all over again.

Rise slowly rose back to her feet, stifling a few laughs and wiping the tears from her eyes. She took a deep breath and shook herself back to reality.

“Alright! So, you want to do something for each of them to make them all feel special, right? Shouldn’t you have done that on White Day or something?” 

Akira nodded, a little shocked by how quickly she’d brought herself back from near death-by-laughter. Idols really were something else, huh?

“I spent all day on dates for White Day, but I still don’t feel like it was enough. Do you have any ideas…?” Akira trailed off, seeing Rise tapping her chin thoughtfully. She brought out her phone and checked something, tapping at the screen and nodding every so often.

“I don’t have any specific ideas, since I’m not dating any of them, so you’ll have to tell me a little bit more for me to refine my ideas.” Rise looked at him, spinning her phone around in her hand as she did. He hadn’t thought Rise was the fidgety type.

“... Alright. God, where do I start?” 

Rise laughed again, and reached over the table to lightly pat him on the shoulder. “The order you got them in, maybe? Don’t overthink this, Akira-kun.”

“Thanks. So, first of all, Ryuji-”

* * *

Rise whistled slightly, surprise evident on her face. “Quite the group you’ve got there, huh? They’re all so different. That last one - was she… you know…” 

“I may be in a relationship with the current proprietress of Okumura Foods, yes.” 

Rise looked thoughtful, turning her phone on and tapping away at it again. “Gonna be difficult to impress her with anything expensive, then, since she’s rich. You want something personalised, heartfelt, something made with her in mind. Honestly, everybody except Kitagawa-kun sounds like you’re gonna need to be heartfelt. You could probably just give him a paintbrush and he’d ask for your hand in marriage, but the rest of them aren’t going to be wowed by anything that isn’t personal.” 

Akira nodded, quietly. He came to the same conclusion a while back.

“You’re lucky, you know.” Akira looked at Rise with a questioning look in his eyes. She smiled back at him and elaborated. “You really care about them, don’t you? They care about you, too. I could tell from the way you talked.” Akira’s hand went to the back of his neck, a flush coming over his features. He _knew_ that, but it was _embarrassing_ to hear somebody else say it. 

“She’s right!” Morgana chimed in, which did not help at all. Akira looked away awkwardly, refusing to meet either Rise or his cat in the eyes.

“Don’t worry, I know how embarrassing it is, but it’s true. I’ll get back to you on some ideas, but I do actually have a friend around here who could help you.” 

Akira looked up, surprised. “A friend? What do you mean?”

“Have you ever been to Tatsumi Textiles?”

* * *

_4/3. Afternoon_

He stood outside the door to Tatsumi Textiles with a lingering sense of trepidation. He’d been here once or twice, picking things up his mother had ordered, but he’d never stayed long. The place had scared him a little as a kid - mostly because of the very man he was coming to meet. Everyone in Inaba had heard stories about the biker-beating bandit. He steeled himself and walked in.

“Hey, man, can I help ya with something?” A burly man with blond hair and glasses walked over to him, sporting a well-fitting black t-shirt with a flaming skull design. Akira looked the man up and down, trying to reconcile the knitting needles in his hand with the scar above his eye and his overall punk aesthetic.

“Tatsumi-san, correct?” 

The man nodded, a rough laugh leaving him.

“Call me Kanji, Ma’s the only one you need to call Tatsumi around here. You look new ‘round here, how ya going?” Akira would have responded, but he was nearly bowled over from Odin’s explosive response to the figure in front of him. This was stronger than most responses - something about Odin, specifically, responded to Kanji. Regardless, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how Yusuke and Kanji were alike, but at the same time he could tell Odin wasn’t wrong. Kanji just stood there, waiting for a response. “You good, man?”

“Yeah, sorry, just a bit of a headache. It’s okay-” 

Kanji jogged off before he could finish, returning a moment later with a glass of water.

“Nah, don’t give me that. Never ignore a headache.” 

Akira accepted the cup, drank deeply, and handed it back gratefully. “Thanks a lot. Uh, so, Rise-chan recommended me-” 

Kanji clapped his hands, the sound echoing through the room.

“Oh! You’re Kurusu, right? Yeah, yeah, Rise sent me a text a lil bit ago about you. I’ll be right back, let me put this shit away...” Kanji hurried off, knitting needles (and cup) clacking in his hand.

Akira looked around the shop, quietly, examining the place. It was colourful, the walls covered in fabrics, clothes, and… stuffed animals? Akira stepped closer, examining a small, round, dragon-looking plush. It looked… soft? He reached out to touch it, when-

“Hey, man, sorry about that. Oh, you interested in Ned?” Akira snatched his hand away in surprise. “Don’t be embarrassed, he’s soft as shit. Here, touch him.” Kanji picked up the little dragon and handed him to Akira, who took him gently. Kanji was right - it was _very_ soft.

“... Ned?”

“Yeah, that’s his name.” Akira looked at Kanji, who stared back at him unwaveringly. Sure, his name was Ned. Akira quietly placed Ned back on the shelf, turning back to face Kanji.

“Sorry, but Rise-chan said you’d be able to help me…?” Akira was tentative, not entirely sure still he was in the right place. Everything was exactly as Rise had described, but the man in front of him was still difficult to associate with… romantic advice of any sort. Odin actually agreed, which didn’t make Akira any more confident in this new potential confidant. 

“Hell yeah I can. You want some cute personal shit for people you love, right? We’re good as hell at that. I can do plush stuff like Ned, clothing, pillows, personalised oven mitts…” Kanji continued listing various items, many of which Akira had never heard of, and none of which he could actually imagine the tough man in front of him making. 

“You still listenin’? Sorry, I get carried away, most customers have an idea of what they’re coming in for so I don’t really know what to list off. Did Rise give ya any pointers?” Akira paused, thinking quietly.

“I have a few ideas?” 

“Hell yeah, man! Come on in and sit, we’ll talk about it, see what we can come up with.” Kanji bounded off, reminding Akira of an overenthusiastic puppy. He shrugged, and followed.

* * *

_4/3. Evening_

“He wouldn’t stop asking to pet me!” 

“To be fair, your fur _is_ very soft, Morgana. Most people would want to pet you.” 

“I’m not just some soft toy! I have my pride to protect!” 

“Whatever you say, Morgana. Can you pass me the keys?” Morgana fished around in the bag, before passing the house keys up to Akira. 

“You’re just lucky it’s too dark for me to trust you to find them, otherwise my pride wouldn’t allow me to be your pack animal like that.” Akira laughed softly, reaching down to poke the grumpy cat’s nose.

“Your pettiness, you mean.”

“I am not petty!” 

“Whatever you say, kitty cat.”

“Hey-”

“Good evening, Akira.” A chill ran down his spine. He looked up to see his mother and father sitting around the table, both quietly looking at him. 

“... Hey, what’s up?” 

His mother rolled her eyes, putting a cup of coffee firmly down on the table. Akira winced, slightly - that was a good cup, and if she’d tried much harder she probably could have shattered it. 

… Wait. Shit.

“‘What’s up’ is that your father and I have been waiting for you to come home, Akira. Where have you been?” Her voice was cold, impersonal, with just a hint of bite to it. 

“... I was out. Is there a problem with that? You’ve never set a curfew for me before, and I didn’t see any messages.” 

“What were you out doing? I hope you weren’t doing anything that would reflect badly on us. We’ve had quite enough of that from the past year.” His father was quiet, but no less stern than his mother. 

“Of course I wasn’t doing anything bad, don’t you trust me? I was late at Tatsumi Textiles, I was arranging something for my friends-” He was cut off by his mother’s curt laugh, devoid of joy.

“Tatsumi Textiles closed hours ago, and you should know not to spend too much time there. People don’t trust a teenage boy who spends all his time in a textile shop.” 

Akira bristled. “Kanji-kun let me stay late so we could hash out some plans! Besides, he’s a perfectly respectable person, and there’s nothing wrong with-”

“We know there’s nothing wrong with it, Akira. Sato and I are just worried that people will judge you - and us - if you spend too much time there.” His father was trying to placate him. It must be serious, Akira thought wryly, because he hadn’t heard his father refer to his mother as Sato in… years, at this point. The pair were much more fond of pet names.

“I don’t care if people judge me for it.” 

“Oh, good for you, but what about us? If people judge you, they’ll blame us, and we didn’t do anything to deserve that!” His mother’s voice was calm, but her pitch on the end of the sentence told Akira all he needed to know. She was upset with him.

“That’s not your fault...” Morgana murmured.

“Not now, Mona,” Akira muttered back, eyes briefly drifting from his mother’s tense face to his bag. 

“And that! Who were you talking to when you came in the door?”

Akira took a deep breath before answering. “... Morgana. Why?” 

“Some of our neighbours have been asking us why you carry your cat around everywhere, and if you really talk to it, and we just don’t know what to say! If you’re going to carry that thing around at _least_ don’t talk to it in public!” 

“He’s my friend!”

“It’s a cat!” 

“I-” Akira didn’t have a retort for that one. What was he going to say? His cat was actually the manifestation of humanity’s hope, who could talk because of their time in a cognitive world built from distortions? His mother would take that _so_ well.

“Regardless of how much you care about your cat, you can’t keep talking to him in public. We understand he helps you, so we won’t ask you to stop carrying him around for now, but you need to realise that it doesn’t reflect well on us.” Akira bit his tongue, holding back Joker’s retort. His father was trying to be reasonable. He needed to try and stay civil.

“I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t…” Akira took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter what everybody says about us.” His tone was neutral, impartial, a voice of reason.

“Maybe not to you, but it matters to us.” Sato’s voice was harsh. “Your father and I have worked hard to get where we are, and to give you so many opportunities, and we can’t do that if somebody convinces our boss that there’s something wrong with us!” 

Joker grit his teeth. He knew where they were coming from, but they needed to get over- 

No. Akira took a deep breath. Calm. Okay. He could do this.

“I’m not going to change who I am for our reputation. I’ll keep it to myself, but I can’t help it if somebody sees me talking to Morgana.” 

“Oh, you’re not going to ‘change who you are’?” His mother’s voice was angry, almost spiteful. “How beautiful a statement, very poetic. Great. Really makes us feel better about all our neighbours talking behind our backs about our weird kid. About how we must not be good parents, because _we_ raised you like this.” 

“Who cares?!” Joker couldn’t hold himself back. “Either they’ll get over it or we can ignore them! They don’t matter! If they want to judge me, that’s their problem!” 

Sato rose to her feet, hand slamming down on the table. “It’s OUR problem! You just get to sit around and cruise through life, but we have to clean up after everything you do! We have to explain to all of our friends that, no, he’s not weird, he’s just studious. We’re sorry he said that to your child, he didn’t really mean it. It’s okay, Akira just didn’t get enough sleep, that’s why he got upset in class the other day. Akira didn’t really mean that, Akira wasn’t going to do it, Akira won’t do it again - it never _stops_ ! We thought sending you to Tokyo for a year would help, but it seems to have just made you _worse_!” 

“Sato, honey, relax, it’s okay-” Akira couldn’t hear anything past the roaring of Satanael in his ears. 

**_Do they think the fury of the First to Fall ought to be contained by the judgment of masses?_ **

**_Do they truly believe thy actions to be flawed, bereft of value and reason?_ **

**_Is thy life merely a stepping stone for their reputation?_ **

**_I am thou…_ **

* * *

Akira stormed out of the room, breathing heavily. He could hear somebody yelling for him to come back, to talk, but it felt like his ears were filled with cotton. He ran to his room, locking the door behind him, and threw himself on his bed. 

“Joker…?” Morgana’s voice was soft, filled with concern. Akira couldn’t breathe. His throat was filled with sandpaper. He was angry. He was upset. He…

Breathe, Joker. Breathe. He took several deep breaths, but each one was more unsteady than the last. His mind was spinning with Satanael’s words, and with what his parents said, and…

“Akira, it’s okay. It’ll be okay.” Morgana’s paw was on his leg, and Joker tensed. He looked down to see his friend looking forlorn, any of the usual sparkle in his eyes drained out and replaced by deep, overwhelming concern. Joker took another deep breath. He had to… 

“I’m. I’m sorry, Morgana. I wish you didn’t... have to see that.” His voice was shaky, and the words came out slowly, forced through a sieve, but at least he could get the words out. Morgana clambered into his lap, an indignant expression on his face.

“I’m not upset about seeing it, I’m upset about my friend being hurt! Are you okay? Take deep breaths. Do you need some water? I can get you your water bottle!” Morgana was trying his best to be helpful, but Joker just shook his head. Morgana stepped up closer, pushing his face into Joker’s chest.

Akira felt the strength drain from his limbs, and he fell backwards, laying on his bed. Morgana took the opportunity to lay on his chest and look down at him softly, eyes wide and almost quivering. Akira took another deep breath.

“Can… can you grab my phone for me, Morgana?” His voice was dull, empty, but Morgana bounded off, returning in an instant with the phone. 

Akira silently unlocked his phone, switching to the Thieves chat. He couldn’t hear anything from downstairs, and… He tried to focus, but he couldn’t get his thoughts in order. If he couldn’t hear anything, that was probably good, though. 

… He had a private message.

* * *

_futababa --- > Joker_

_futababa: are u ok????_

_futababa: im sorry for listening in but i heard raised voices and i wanted to make sure u were alright and i heard the conversation are u okay_

_futababa: mona are u there_

_futababa: akira where r u_

_Joker: Sorry_

_Joker: I’m just_

_futababa: its ok! i was just worried_

_Joker: That was just a lot to handle._

_futababa: i could tell_

_futababa: do u want to talk about it_

_Joker: Give me a moment._

_futababa: ok_

_Joker: I’m just … shaken._

_futababa: it sounded like a bad argument_

_Joker: It was, but. Not just that._

_futababa: ?_

_Joker: I heard Satanael._

_futababa: what do u mean_

_Joker: Satanael told me to rebel against my parents._

_futababa: oh_

_Joker: I…_

_Joker: Do the other thieves know about this?_

_futababa: i havent mentioned it yet_

_futababa: do u want me to…?_

_Joker: I..._

_futababa: its okay if u dont want me to_

_futababa: but i think theyd want to help u_

_Joker: Give me a few minutes._

_Joker: And… don’t mention the thing about Satanael._

_futababa: ok_

* * *

His day had been so _good._ He befriended Teddie and Yosuke, he got romantic advice from Rise, he made plans with Kanji, and his parents just had to come along and ruin it. Sure, he hadn’t helped the situation, but nothing he said was unreasonable. Was it?

_Indeed. Thy mind was set on the correct path, and the will of thy caregivers matters not to one whose justice is known. Why should he who has felled a god quake before insignificant pests?_

That… He couldn’t disagree, but he didn’t like Satanael’s tone. 

_I am but a facet of the self. You know this to be true, and you know the meaning behind my words._

_The Trickster should not fall beneath the boot of those concerned with petty repute and misguided moral failings. What matters is thy justice, and it has been proven time, time and time again._

They were his _parents_ . They were concerned about him. Why was this so _hard_?

His phone buzzed.

_futababa: u still there?_

_Joker: Sorry._

_Joker: I think I’m ready to talk about it._

_Joker: Can you tell the other thieves the summary? I don’t feel up to explaining it. Don’t tell them any specifics, if you heard any, please._

_futababa: so should i just tell them u got in a big fight with your parents about… what_

_Joker: … I don’t know._

_futababa: i dont think i can explain it without specifics_

_Joker: Tell them about… the Mona parts, then, and the general vibe of the conversation._

_futababa: ok_

* * *

_futababa: hey guys_

_futababa: akira got in a fight w/ his parents_

_Makoto: Is he okay?_

_ryuryu: oh shit how is he_

_Ann: what about??_

_futababa: i overheard some of it and it was about stuff like. theyre worried people will talk weird abt them because their kid carries around/talks to a cat all the time_

_futababa: shit like that_

_ryuryu: thats BS_

_ryuryu: who cares if he talks to his cat_

_ryuryu: hes like the nicest effin guy i kno_

_Makoto: Is Akira aware you’re telling us this…?_

_Joker: I am, don’t worry._

_ann: akira!_

_ryuryu: shit man u ok_

_inari: How are you feeling?_

_Joker: Pretty bad, honestly._

_ryuryu: man that fight sounds like such bullshit_

_ryuryu: dont beat urself up over it or anything_

_ryuryu: who gives a shit if somebdy doesnt like that you talk to mona_

_ann: youre right but ryuji its probably more complicated than that_

_Makoto: Indeed. I don’t know enough about your parents to know if they’re typically reasonable, or if they have cause for concern over their reputation._

_Joker: I don’t really think so…? I’m not entirely sure._

_Makoto: Do you mind telling us about them, somewhat? You were never forthcoming with details around them, and I didn’t want to pry, but it seems relevant currently._

_ann: you dont have to though! its okay! only share as much as you feel you can right now!_

_Haru: We’re here for you, no matter what._

_Joker: I appreciate it, but I think I can talk about them. It’s easier than talking about what just happened._

_Joker: Their names are Ren and Sato. I don’t actually know what they do, but they work in some sort of business work that keeps them busy a lot of the time._

_futababa: sry but what were last names b4 marriage_

_Joker: My mother was named Sato Amamiya._

_Joker: I don’t know how much their reputation affects their jobs. I know they do a fair amount of dealing with business people, but I’ve never understood what they were talking about whenever they bring up work._

_Haru: I obviously can’t say I know the most, but from what I understand, it’s… I understand why they could be concerned, especially if they’re higher up. Is your family particularly well off?_

_ryuryu: u always seemed to know how to spend all your money so i always assumed u were rich_

_Joker: I wouldn’t call us rich, but we’re well above average._

_Joker: I don’t honestly know why we live in Inaba, we could live in Tokyo or something pretty easily_

_Makoto: Did either of your parents grow up in Inaba?_

_Joker: I’m not sure_

_Joker: Maybe? Dad has always seemed familiar with the area._

_Makoto: There’s a fair chance it’s for sentimental reasons - not to mention it must be cheaper than the city._

_futababa: hey do i have permission to pry into ur familys records_

_Joker: I imagine you already have, but feel free to share whatever you found._

_futababa: sorry_

_futababa: ur father was born in inaba but moved to the city when he was older_

_futababa: ur mother seems to always have been in the city afaik_

_Joker: That makes sense._

_ann: how r u feeling_

_Joker: … It’s nice, having something to take my mind off the argument._

_inari: Do not be afraid to tell us how you are feeling - we would always be happy to assist with any problems you may have, emotional or otherwise._

_Joker: Thanks, but it’s okay._

_Joker: It was just a fight._

_ryuryu: a fight is never just a fight_

_ryuryu: even if the topic is dumb or whatever theres a reason why it started in the first place_

_ann: i agree with ryuji_

_Joker: It’s probably just that they’re upset that I came back weirder after Tokyo than I was when I left._

_ann: youre not weird!_

_Joker: I mean, I am. I carry a cat around in a bag that I talk to. I literally have an incarnation of the devil in my mind. I shot a god in the head. That’s pretty weird._

_Makoto: While you are abnormal, there’s nothing wrong with it, is more what I think Ann means._

_ann: yeah like_

_ann: youre a good person and people should see that_

_ann: nobody should judge you for being you_

_Joker: Thanks_

_Joker: Unfortunately, my parents are still getting adjusted._

_Joker: They sent me off in the hopes that none of us would have to deal with too much fallout from the Shido incident and that when I came back, I’d... learn not to question authority, I guess?_

_Joker: Obviously, that failed._

_ryuryu: good_

_ryuryu: eff that idea_

_ann: ryuji!_

_ryuryu: what its what were all thinking isnt it_

_ryuryu: dont tell me your persona isnt in ur brain right now telling you that’s bs_

_ann: youre right, but_

_ann: you could be a little more tactful about it_

_ryuryu: hell no_

_ryuryu: akira is in the right here, his parents need to deal_

_Makoto: While I appreciate your viewpoint, and I can’t disagree, these are his parents, Ryuji. We need to be tactful about this - if not just to avoid him being thrown out of the house, if nothing else_

_ryuryu: i guess_

_Joker: I appreciate it, both of you. It’s… complicated._

_Joker: I’m not going to change my view on it - Satanael wouldn’t let me even if I wanted to - but I’ll try and see how they feel about it in the future._

_Makoto: If you ever need help, feel free to contact us at any point._

_futababa: if theyre busy i can either help or interrupt whatever theyre doing_

_Makoto: Thank you, Futaba. I think?_

_futababa: ill only do it if necessary!_

_futababa: probably_

_futababa: mwehehehe_

_Joker: Thank you, everybody._

_Joker: I really do appreciate all of you._

_ann: <3 _

_ryuryu: ^_

_Haru: ^-^_

_Makoto: I don’t think that was what Ryuji meant…_

_Haru: I know!_

_Joker: I think I’m going to go to bed now._

_Joker: Goodnight, everybody._

_futababa: night night_

_Makoto: Good night, Akira. Love you_

_ann: night! Much love!_

_ryuryu: night night, we love you_

_inari: Rest well, and sleep peacefully_

_Haru: Sleep well!_

_Joker: <3 _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is the longest chapter yet and probably the longest for a little while  
> it was hell to edit


	5. Blooming & Bouquets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey gamers just gonna give a vague warning that from here on out there are p5r related things i am no longer going to step around. if you do not know why a character name being used would be a spoiler, you do not know enough about p5r to go in unspoiled. i am not, like, detailing the new events or anything, but i am giving a general warning here. go play it it's really good

_4/4. Early Morning_

_Sumi --- > Joker _

_Sumi: Hi Senpai_

_Sumi: I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you last night_

_Sumi: But I just wanted to say, after reading back, that you’re right_

_Sumi: Even though I did think it was a little weird that you always carried around Morgana-senpai (before I knew he could talk!) you were really nice to me_

_Sumi: That’s the important thing!_

_Sumi: You’re a really good person_

_Joker: I appreciate it._

_Joker: How are you, by the way? You’re not back in Japan yet, are you?_

_Sumi: I’m not! We’re actually just about to go to bed, so I finally had time to look at my phone, haha_

_Sumi: We’re getting home in a few days, in time for the Spring Festival!_

_Sumi: And then we get to go back to school_

_Joker: Will you be around for Golden Week?_

_Sumi: I think so! I’ll have to check, but if I recall correctly, they’re giving us a break then_

_Joker: I’m not sure if you saw, but I’m making plans to head up to Tokyo for Golden Week, so I hope you have time to hang out._

_Sumi: I’m excited for it_

_Sumi: Oh, I’ve got to go, talk to you soon_

_Joker: Good luck!_

* * *

_4/4. Morning_

Akira hadn’t been to Junes this early in the morning since returning to Inaba. He greeted the tired-looking employee in charge of opening the store. He couldn’t remember the guy’s name, but he usually thought of him as ‘Anti-Orange Employee’. Akira wandered over to the “Back 2 (S)C(H)OOL” display and showed a sleepy Morgana the array of pencil cases and notebooks.

“What should I get?” 

Morgana yawned, taking in the gaudy display with bleary eyes. There was a pause.

“Whatever’s the softest, so I can use it as a pillow during class…” Morgana went back to sleep, curling up into a tight ball in Akira’s bag. 

Akira couldn’t really blame him. He didn’t want to be up either, but he didn’t want to deal with his parents first thing in the morning, especially after… last night.

However, he realized he needed to go shopping for school supplies, which meant facing the unfortunate reality of _school_. He had a feeling time would slip through his fingers once school started, which was both a blessing and a curse.

“Do you need a hand with anything?” 

“Not really, I’m just browsing,” Akira hummed in response, as some vaguely familiar Junes employee stood to attention. He had soft-looking brown hair and his glasses gave him an intelligent aura. 

“... Oh, you’re Kurusu, right? I recognise you from a few days ago.” The employee perked up upon seeing a Junes compatriot, and then, in response to Akira’s nod, slumped down the moment he knew he was talking to a coworker and not a customer.

“Long night or too early?” Akira chuckled, stretching in place and turning to examine the man standing beside him.

“Too early,” he groaned. “Yosuke-kun thinks he can ask me to open for him just because he’s known me since I was a kid. He’s right, but I wish he wasn’t.” Smart Guy with Glasses wore a plaid blue shirt and black jeans. He had the Junes employee apron loosely draped over his shirt, looking decidedly more like a scarf than an apron, and the caffeinated drink in his hand told Akira all he needed to know about how ready for work he actually was.

“He’s known you since you were a kid? What, does Junes employ child labour?” 

Smart Guy with Glasses laughed, shaking his head. “A friend of his tutored me in middle school and they threw a birthday party for me because I was a loser.” 

Akira had to admit that sounded like Yosuke. “A friend of his? Do they have a name?”

“Yeah, Yu Narukami. Do you know him?” Smart Guy with Glasses looked at him expectantly, as if a positive answer was inevitable.

“... I’ve never met the guy,” Akira said. “If Yosuke-san knows him, does that mean he also knows Nanako-chan?” 

“You know Nanako-chan?” Smart Guy with Glasses’ face lit up. 

“Not really, but I’ve run into her a few times around Junes. She seems nice, though.” 

“She is nice! I’ve actually been tutoring her myself, to return the favour Yu-kun did for me.” Smart Guy with Glasses fiddled with his glasses as he spoke. “She doesn’t really need it, but I’m happy to help anyway.” 

“What’s that like?” Akira asked, curious. “I have a lot of free time on my hands, and I’m pretty good at school, so I wouldn’t mind being a tutor.”

“... Really?” Smart Guy with Glasses looked him up and down, taking a long sip of his drink.

“Yeah. What’s up?” 

“This is really convenient, actually.” Smart Guy with Glasses pulled out his phone, holding it out towards Akira. “I’m actually leaving for college soon, and while we were just going to drop the tutoring thing…” 

“I’d be happy to tutor Nanako-chan, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Akira pulled his phone out of his pocket, and while the two exchanged contact info, Satanael murmured quietly. He didn’t have the matching Arcana, but… Smart Guy with Glasses was Tower, huh?

“I’ll text you some more details later.” Smart Guy with Glasses held out his hand for a handshake. Akira shook firmly. “I’m Shu, by the way. Shu Nakajima.”

“Nice to meet you, Shu-kun.”

* * *

_4/4. Daytime_

Akira wandered around Junes for a few hours, but it wasn’t long before he got bored, and he knew he couldn’t wander around Inaba for the rest of the year. Well, he definitely could, but he would miss his room, and he couldn’t let his parents lose Desire and Hope. 

If it got bad enough, he could always head back to Tokyo. He’d _always_ have a home with Sojiro, but… That was a little too fatalistic for him. Even if he disagreed with his parents, he loved them, didn’t he?

… Didn’t he?

Of course he did, he was just overthinking things. He was just on edge. He was tired, stressed, and - worst of all - needed a cup of coffee. 

“Joker, are you sure you can handle this?” Morgana asked. 

“Of course I can.” Joker flashed him a smile, feeling the little adjectives he’d long since stopped questioning in the back of his mind. Lionhearted, debonair. Of course he could do this.

* * *

Joker walked into his house and immediately _focused_. His father was out and his mother was in the lounge, reading a book. He held a bouquet of flowers loosely, resisting the urge to tighten his grip lest he damage his olive branch. A collection of nice pink roses for love, a few Gecko Orchids for thanks and some pink carnations. He was certain she’d love it. He took a deep breath and walked into the lounge.

“Good morning, Akira.” Sato barely glanced up from her book, raising a hand in greeting. Joker crossed the distance in a few steps, standing uneasily beside her chair. She glanced up at him. “Oh! Those are beautiful, who are they for?” 

“... They’re for you.” 

She eagerly accepted the flowers, immediately setting about placing them in a vase on the table. Akira blinked. 

“They’re lovely, dear, thank you.” Akira stared at her. “Is something wrong?”

“... No, nothing. Do you want some coffee?” Akira shook his head, walking towards the coffee machine on instinct. Morgana - freed from the confines of the bag - watched quietly from the hallway, seeming equally as befuddled by Sato’s… normalcy.

“Of course. If you’re offering to make it, I don’t think I could ever refuse!” Her smile was warm and genuine. 

* * *

_ann: she didnt even remember??_

_Joker: It didn’t seem like it. I didn’t think she was one for holding grudges, but… this is something else._

_ryuryu: maybe she just realised she was wrong but isnt gonna admit it so shes pretending it never happened_

_ryuryu: ive done that b4_

_Joker: Morgana is aware._

_ryuryu: hey!_

_futababa: haha owned_

_Makoto: Well, keep an eye on her. She could just be pretending, and ignoring your feelings always has the potential to backfire - on you or her._

“Makoto’s right.” Morgana murmured, voice quiet and thoughtful. “If the Metaverse were still around, I’d say we check her name in the Nav, just in case.” 

Akira frowned. “You’re worrying too much.”

_Joker: I’ll ask Dad about it tonight if he comes home._

_ann: gl_

* * *

_4/4. Evening_

“Akira, your mother and I are going out to dinner tonight! Don’t forget to lock up. We’ll be out late!” Ren hadn’t been home for even five minutes, and he was halfway outside when he noticed his son rushing to meet him, concern plain across his face. “What’s up, Aki-bō?” 

“... Aren’t you and Mom upset about last night?” Huh? Oh, right, that.

“Of course not!” Ren patted Akira’s shoulder comfortingly, noticing how much more densely-packed his muscles had become in the last year. Akira really had grown up while he was gone. “Your mother and I talked about it some, and we agreed we were being too hard on you. School’s coming up soon, and it’s been a long time, so we know you’re just stressed.” 

Akira’s expression was unreadable - an impenetrable mask - before a chuckle cracked out. “It must have been more obvious than I thought. Thanks for being so understanding.” 

“We’re sorry about last night, too,” Ren murmured. “Sato never meant for anything to get that heated. You know that, don’t you?” 

Akira nodded, turning to leave. Oh, wait, he’d almost forgotten.

“Before you go, Aki-bō, I actually have a gift for you.” Ren fished around in his bag for a moment, before hurrying to a different room. When he returned, he was carrying a bouquet of flowers. “Your mother suggested it. We think it would go nicely in your room.” 

Akira gratefully accepted the bouquet, looking through it with a trained eye. “Did she suggest a specific meaning with these, or just the bouquet in general?” 

“No, she just recommended a bouquet she saw online.” Ren laughed in surprise. “We don’t know the first thing about plants. I hope it doesn’t mean anything crass!” 

Akira returned the laugh, flicking through the flowers with an expert hand. “Not at all. This flower actually means… virtue, this one is wealth and prosperity, and this one… The Delightful Lily, which I’d typically use for celebrating childbirth - but don’t worry, it won’t end up with that meaning in my hands.” Akira clutched the flowers close, and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes crossed his face. Ren paused for a moment, concerned, before Akira yawned.

“Sorry, I woke up early this morning.” Akira rubbed at his eyes with his free hand. “You two have fun at dinner!”

When Ren and Sato got home much later that night, neither of them noticed the bouquet of lilies in the trash.

* * *

_4/9. Evening_

“So, you’re Shu’s replacement?” Kohryu thrummed in Akira’s chest, a powerful significance he’d missed since leaving Tokyo. 

Akira bowed slightly to the man in front of him, nodding. “My name’s Akira Kurusu, sir. I’m pleased to meet you.”

Ryotaro Dojima looked him up and down, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. Akira had a strong instinct to run from his stare, but sheer force of will and Kohryu’s continuous support kept him in place. Dojima’s eyes narrowed and the chin-stroking paused.

“... Do I know you, kid?” 

“... Last year, with the Shido incident.” Akira had been hoping he wouldn’t recognise him.

“Oh, hell, you’re the kid who got sent on probation, aren’t you?” Dojima looked at him with wide eyes, a mere moment of regret passing over his face.

“That would be me, sir.” 

Dojima’s face went a perfect neutral for a few moments before he shook his head. “... Listen, sorry about that. I tried my best back then, but…” 

“I understand, Dojima-san,” Akira said. “If it makes you feel any better, you did help me relax in there, even despite everything.” Akira laughed, and, after a moment’s hesitation, Dojima joined in.

“I’m glad to see you came out the other end of everything just fine.” Dojima awkwardly fiddled with his jacket. “I couldn’t do anything with your case, but a woman came by a few months ago asking about it. She seemed like she wanted to help you, so I dropped her some information about the woman you protected.” 

“Oh, Ohya-chan did mention a hot detective who got her the testimony. Thanks for that, Dojima-san.” Akira flashed Dojima a teasing grin, earning a tired eye roll from the older man.

“You really didn’t have to mention that,” Dojima groaned, but Akira could see a (shockingly familiar) poorly-hidden smile. “Anyways, I’ve got to head out, but you and Nanako can work out the details of your tutoring.”

“Thank you, sir.” Akira stepped forward, but Dojima didn’t move from the doorway.

“... Listen, kid.” Dojima’s voice was stern, and laced with danger. “I’ll warn you once. Try anything funny with Nanako, and you’ll regret it. She’s trained in self-defense and she has me on speed dial.” 

Akira nodded, his expression growing grim. “I understand, sir.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, but…” Dojima’s voice trailed off, and he looked into the distance. 

“She’s your daughter. I can see why you’d be protective.”

“Hah, it’s not just for her. If anything happened to her, we’d both have a veritable force of nature on our tails, and he’s not the sort of guy you want as an enemy.” Dojima chuckled, quietly, but there was no humour in his eyes. Akira got a shudder down his spine, but he didn’t quite know why. “Anyway, get in there, kid, I need to go.”

“So long, sir!”

* * *

“So, Wednesdays and Saturdays, in the evening?” Akira confirmed. Nanako nodded, smiling brightly.

“Yep! If something comes up one of those days, we can reschedule, but for now, we can arrange that!” Nanako laughed. “We’ll start the week after Golden Week, because I don’t think school will be too scary until then. Is that okay with you?” 

Nanako’s hair was loose - the first time, in fact, that Akira had seen her hair not done up in her signature pigtails - and she was half curled up underneath the Dojimas’ kotatsu. Akira had been offered a spot under it too, but he’d declined, preferring a chair. As nice as it seemed, he wasn’t quite familiar enough with Nanako to be willing to try that, in fear of either Dojima or the mystery force of nature materialising out of thin air and tearing him limb from limb.

“That’s absolutely fine, thank you. If you ever need extra help, though, feel free to ask.” Akira grinned at her.

“So, Akira-kun…” Nanako’s face was more sombre than it had been a moment ago. She glanced towards the door.

“Is something wrong?”

“... I overheard Dad talking to you outside. What was that about?” Nanako was quiet, fidgeting slightly. “You don’t need to mince words, or anything. I’ve always been mature for my age.”

Akira bit his lip, debating over how much to share. On one hand, Nanako was, like, twelve. On the other hand, their discussions up to this point had always been fun, and surprisingly thought-provoking, but… 

Metatron was clanging around in his soul loudly enough that he got the feeling he should go for it.

“About a year ago, I had some problems with a powerful man, and he got me arrested on false charges.” Akira paused, collecting his thoughts. “Your father saw me in the station, and he… interrogated me, but he also talked to me like a human being. He tried his best to help me, and while he couldn’t do much, he did make me feel better even when everybody else treated me like a criminal.” 

“That sounds like my Dad. He looks scary, but he’s a big softie.” Nanako’s face was full of love and made part of Akira yearn for Tokyo. 

A moment of silence passed between the two.

“... You’re not going to bring up the part where he threatened you?” Nanako’s voice was teasing, and Akira laughed.

“He seemed more protective of you than most fathers I’ve met, but I can’t blame the guy,” Akira said lightly. “I’m sure he has a good reason, being a detective and all.” 

Nanako’s face grew wistful. “... I almost died once.”

… Huh?

“It was six years ago.” Nanako’s voice was soft, almost sad. “I don’t remember a lot of the details, ‘cause I was a kid, but I got kidnapped. It was part of the serial killings. I ended up in the hospital, and they told me I died in there, at one point. It was a long time ago now, but I can tell he still thinks about it.” 

“That sounds… awful. Are you… okay?” Akira looked into her eyes, seeing a familiar resolve in them.

“It’s alright.” Nanako smiled reassuringly. “I’m mostly over it now. I still have weird dreams sometimes... but they’re confusing, not, like, nightmares. You should be asking my Dad if he’s okay, honestly.” Nanako’s voice crept down to a whisper by the end of the sentence, trailing off as if she’d forgotten what she was speaking about. Her face screwed up thoughtfully.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Akira tried.

“Huh?”

“I think it’s an English expression. What’s on your mind?” 

Nanako tapped her fingers rhythmically on the kotatsu. “It’s just… I don’t think about it often - Dad took me to a therapist a few years ago, just in case, and he told me not to dwell on the memories if it wasn’t bothering me - but… I don’t know if it was just ‘cause I was a kid, or what, but everything I remember from back then is weird.” 

“How so?”

Nanako raised her hand, holding her palm towards the ceiling, and clenched her hand into a fist. She murmured some words to herself, most of which Akira couldn’t hear. He could make out “-zuchi” and “hikona,” but Nanako was clearly in her own world. Was this what it was like when he thought about Personae or Tokyo? He could almost see why he got such weird looks all the time.

Nanako didn’t elaborate, so the two merely exchanged pleasantries after that. Before long, Akira excused himself and headed home. He had to be ready for school.

* * *

_4/10. Lunchtime_

His reception at Yasogami High was about as frosty as he expected. He couldn’t really blame them, and it still beat starting at Shujin. Most of the kids here didn’t expect him to pull out a knife and cut them into ribbons - though, ironically, he _was_ much more capable of it now.

Akira reclined on the rooftop, Morgana resting beside him. It was nice up there, decently secluded, and amusingly nostalgic. 

“At least your teachers are more friendly this year!” Morgana was ever a positive force. Akira responded by reaching over and petting his head. “Hey! Don’t pet me- Hey!” Morgana scurried away from the grotesque claws of affection Akira wielded with deadly might. Akira splayed himself out across the floor, reaching pathetically for his cat.

“Um… Kurusu-san?” A timid voice startled Akira, who rolled over and climbed to his feet, brushing himself off. A girl stared at him, eyes wide and flicking between Morgana and Akira. “You’ve… been requested to go to the principal’s office. Do you… know how to get there…?” 

Akira nodded. “Do you know what it’s about?” 

“They didn’t tell me, sorry. I need to get going now, so…” The girl scampered off almost before she finished her sentence. Akira sighed.

* * *

“We understand your reasons for having your cat around, but we have some concerns from some of the student body…” the old man stated in a tired, droning voice. 

Akira paid him little mind. Instead, he glanced around the office, noting a strangely large collection of model trains scattered around the room. 

“If you’re worried about allergies, it’s fine. For some reason, Morgana doesn’t trigger allergies-”

“While that’s good to know, if true, that isn’t what I was going to ask.” The principal clasped his hands together, breathing deeply. “There have been concerns raised that your cat may disrupt regular classroom activities. Since you haven’t provided any documentation as to the official status of your cat, and its training…” 

“... Do you want proof that Morgana won’t cause problems?” Akira had to hide a smirk. “I have paperwork, but I don’t think it will be necessary to prove this.”

“I don’t quite believe you have the ability to prove such a thing. Even if your cat is capable of staying calm in the current circumstances, there are fears that in certain classroom environments…” The principal’s voice trailed off as Morgana leaped onto the desk.

“Do you have anything you’d like Morgana to do?” 

“... Excuse me?” The old man blinked a few times, looking between the boy and the cat.

“Do you have anything you’d like Morgana to do? The question is fairly simple, I believe.”

“... Is this a joke?” 

“Morgana, would you mind grabbing this man’s pen off his desk for him? His pen off his desk, a black one, preferably.” Morgana trotted over, pawing through a pencil case sitting on the principal’s desk and emerging with a beautiful black pen. 

“... I don’t believe I’ll need any further proof.” 

Akira smiled innocently in response to the principal trying his hardest to maintain some level of decorum - a task made much more difficult when Morgana placed the black pen in his hand. Akira motioned Morgana back into his bag, and left the room stifling laughs.

* * *

_4/23. Early Morning_

_Haru: Happy birthday, Mako-chan!_

_ann: happy bday makoto!_

_futababa: damnit haru i wanted to b first_

_futababa: but mer cris to makoto_

_Joker: Happy birthday, Makoto._

_ryuryu: good news youre 19 now_

_Makoto: I appreciate it, you all, but you are aware that it’s midnight, correct?_

_futababa: well yeah otherwise it couldn’t be your bday duh_

_inari: Happy birthday, Makoto. As a present, would you like a painting?_

_Makoto: You don’t need to get me anything, you know._

_inari: I did not hear a response in the negative._

_ann: yeah we dont ‘need’ to get you anything but we WANT to get you anything_

_Makoto: Thank you, but the first thing you could get for me is some rest. It’s late, after all._

_futababa: no its not my bedtime isnt for another 6 hours_

_Makoto: … Please go to sleep before that._

_ryuryu: arent we havin a party whats up with that_

_Makoto: That’s really not necessary, guys..._

_Joker: We’ll hold off until Golden Week so I can be there. And yes, it is necessary._

_Haru: ^_

* * *

_4/27. Evening_

“I’ve already mentioned this, but I’m just reminding you…” Akira stood in the lounge awkwardly, waiting for his parents to look up from their forms of entertainment - a phone for his father, a book for his mother. “I have plans to go to Tokyo for Golden Week. We’ve already got everything worked out, so don’t worry about any of that.” 

Ren smiled encouragingly at him. “Go and have fun with your friends, Aki-bō. I hope you have fun. Be sure to get back in time for school, though, and don’t go and get arrested again or anything.” 

Sato laughed quietly, placing her hand on her husband’s arm. For a moment, Akira felt like a kid again - grossed out by his parents’ PDA - but he just smiled at them and went up to his room. He was excited to see his friends again. It was going to be a good week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was a short one! next one isn't that long either but we'll start picking up the length soon enough  
> next chapter is a cute fun chapter of these dumb nerds being losers
> 
> ALSO SMT V HYPE and also nocturne that's cool


	6. Golden Week

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> final reminder of p5r spoilers

_4/29. Daytime_

“-next stop, Yongen-Jaya. I repeat-” 

With a sudden burst of energy, Akira shot upright, any traces of left-over fatigue from his train nap banished. Morgana’s ears perked up out of his bag. The two shared an excited glance. They were finally back.

* * *

“Are you sure you remember how to get there?” Morgana poked his head around to look at Akira’s face, half-standing on his shoulder.

“We both know the answer to that, Mona,” Akira laughed, scratching the cat’s head affectionately. Morgana mewled in response, whining. 

As though summoned by Morgana’s meows, a blur of orange slammed into Akira, nearly knocking him to the ground. 

“You’re here!” Futaba didn’t weigh a lot, but her full speed was still enough that Akira had to brace himself. Akira placed a hand on her head, tousling her hair slightly. 

“Somebody’s excited.” Akira couldn’t keep the teasing lilt out of his voice. Futaba lifted her head from his chest, glaring at him. 

“Well, duh! I missed you!” Her petulant voice rang out across the station. From the direction she came, Akira could see a small gaggle of his friends following, and he waved. 

Morgana reached out and placed a paw on Futaba’s head. “I’m here too, you know!”

“I know, kitty! I’ll give you attention later!” Contrary to her words, Futaba immediately attacked Morgana, going straight for the cheeks. Akira had to turn 180 degrees to avoid being dragged to the ground by her force.

“Futaba, you really shouldn’t run off like that, you know…” Makoto’s voice was soft, an exasperated smile on her face. Futaba ignored her, too distracted with harassing Morgana - who already looked like he regretted coming back to Tokyo. “Welcome back, Akira.” 

* * *

“Give me a minute, gremlin, I can’t give you anything if it’s stuck in a suitcase.” Akira fended off Futaba’s grabby hands as she searched through his belongings for gifts (or anything else she could steal). Futaba immediately sheathed her hands behind her back.

“You’ll get your turn, Futaba. Relax.” Ryuji reclined at one of Leblanc’s tables, almost laughing as he spoke. Futaba pouted at him.

“Don’t make that face, Futaba,” Sojiro admonished, but his voice was fond. “Your face will get stuck like that.” 

Futaba’s retort was cut off by a stuffed animal shoved in her face. “Hey, don’t- oh! Oh! Oh my god! It’s so soft!” She clutched a gigantic orb of _soft_ to her chest, a pair of black ears barely visible over her arms. Her face vanished in the large cat plush.

“I think she likes it,” Ann said, watching Futaba bury herself deeper into the plush’s embrace. 

Ryuji waved at the plush. “Dude, is that supposed to be Mona?” 

“I am never moving again!” Futaba’s muffled voice came from the floor. 

“Get off the ground, Futaba…” Sojiro requested, a smile on his face regardless. Futaba did not move. 

“Can somebody move her to a table?” Akira asked. “I still have other gifts to give out.” 

“I’ll do it, Senpai!” Effortlessly, Sumire picked up Futaba - who squeaked - and carried her to a seat, where she continued to snuggle both the plush and the girl. 

“First of all, here you go, Ann.” Akira tossed a red ball of fluff in Ann’s direction, who caught and immediately started fussing over it. “And next…”

“What didja get?” Ryuji peered over at Ann’s toy while Akira passed out an assortment of other gifts.

Ann held a red cat in her hands that looked relatively similar to Futaba’s gift, but with an intricate design on its side.

“It’s a little Panther!” Ann exclaimed, holding it out for Ryuji to see. “It even has a whip!” 

“Kanji-kun seemed confused when I asked for it to have a whip, but he didn’t ask too many questions,” Akira chimed in, leaning casually over the table.

“So, Kanji’s the guy who made these? What’s he like?” 

“He actually reminds me of you, Ryuji. Bottle blond, big softie, and he really cares about his mother? You might have a replacement,” Akira teased, earning Ryuji’s ire.

“I’m way better than this Kanji guy!” Ryuji protested.

“How?” Ann asked, waving her panther plush around gently for emphasis before clutching it back to her chest. “You didn’t make anything this soft!” 

Ryuji stopped, thinking for a rare moment. “I bet he can’t shoot lightning outta his hands!” 

“Yeah, like you know how to do that,” Akira scoffed, reaching over to pat Ryuji on the shoulder. 

“Eff yeah I do! Me and William are the lightning guys!” Ryuji waggled his fingers, as if demonstrating a point. “We zapped down those Ziodynes all the time, didn’t we?”

“While you were quite effective when you did use them, you were much more partial to physical attacks while in the Metaverse,” Makoto noted, trying on her new pair of gloves.

“Yeah. If Yusuke didn’t like me, we wouldn’t have had any good Zio coverage on the team.” Akira laughed, before noticing confused stares from the rest of the team.

“... While I appreciate the sentiment, I can’t imagine how I would have managed to assist you in electric maneuvers. My forte is more ice.” Yusuke’s voice held a curious lilt.

“Odin’s an Emperor,” Akira said, expecting for a moment that would explain everything. It did not. He sighed. This would take a minute.

* * *

“You got a Chinese god of war from me?! That’s sick, dude!” Ryuji was absolutely ecstatic.

“Well, it’s actually more that it’s a manifestation of the concept found in the collective unconscious in the form of a commonly depicted-” Morgana found Futaba’s finger in his mouth, and she snatched it back as he attempted to bite down. 

“Hey! Don’t bite, kitty!”

“Don’t stick your finger in my mouth while I’m talking!”

Akira sighed. In the back of his mind, Ongyo-Ki laughed.

* * *

“Happy birthday, Makoto!” Makoto gawked at the impressively large cake in front of her. She was also nearly certain those party poppers hadn’t been there just a few short moments before, but everyone else seemed to be in on the plan already.

“When did you…?” 

Before Makoto could finish her statement, Akira popped his party popper, properly perplexing her.

“We’ve been planning this for a few days now!” Haru giggled, her bright smile making Makoto’s heart swell. “We couldn’t let your birthday go by without celebration, after all!”

“Shouldn’t we be making plans for spending time with Akira, or something…? We don’t need to make such a fuss…” 

Ann poked the tip of Makoto’s nose. “Nope! Tonight is all about you!” 

Makoto’s face burned, but she accepted everybody’s attention regardless.

* * *

_4/29. Evening_

Makoto had to admit - it was a lot of fun. Even if they all ate _far_ too much cake (and other sweets), it was a good night. Makoto looked around Akira’s attic in what Futaba called “sleepover mode,” with mattresses and thieves scattered across the room. Futaba was out like a light with Morgana curled up on top of her, while Sumire - still the newest and most awkward member of the group - sat beside them and gently played with Futaba’s hair. Ann was asleep on Ryuji’s lap while Ryuji loudly snored away himself, and Akira curled up like a cat beside Makoto. From partway across the room, Haru caught Makoto’s eye and smiled, posing minimally as Yusuke sketched the scene.

Makoto rested against Akira and closed her eyes.

* * *

_4/30. Morning_

“What, can’tcha keep up?” Ryuji was almost embarrassingly far ahead, jogging backwards and waving at Akira. Akira, for his part, tried his best, but he hadn’t been up this early or worked this hard in _months_.

“I was taking it easy on you!” Akira took a breath and doubled his speed, channeling Joker as he ran. 

* * *

_4/30. Daytime_

“That cartwheel was _so_ unnecessary, dude!” Ryuji’s voice was loud even for the crowded Big Bang Burger. 

Akira flicked him on the head. “Keep it down. You’ll get us kicked out.”

“Nah, man, aren’t you, like, a celeb around here?” Ryuji gestured to the burger memorabilia. “Didn’t you beat the challenge or whatever?”

Joker smiled. “Want to try it?” 

“... Huh?” 

“Excuse me!” Akira walked up to the counter, leaving Ryuji flabbergasted. “Two Big Bang Burger challenges, please!”

“Oh, is this your first time?” The woman at the counter was clearly unprepared for a Big Bang Captain.

Akira flashed a badge. “Not even close. Am I allowed to get a Cosmic Tower for my friend, even though he’s not a Captain?”

“Dude, you’re getting me _what_?” 

“Of course!” Ms. Female Employee seemed more excited than Akira was. He approved of her taste.

* * *

“Dude…” Ryuji could _not_ believe what he was looking at. “You’ve eaten this thing before?”

Akira didn’t answer, instead choosing to start the challenge. Ryuji sighed.

* * *

“You can do it!” Akira cheered on Ryuji, who was barely halfway into the Cosmic Tower. “You’re almost there!”

“I never want to eat again…” 

* * *

“Dude, how the _shit_ did you finish off my burger when you ate your whole damn thing in twenty freakin’ minutes?” 

Akira winked. “Trade secret.”

“Is your stomach a damn black hole? Is that where Mementos went?” Ryuji was too worn out to press the point any further, but he made sure to voice his displeasure.

“Excellent job, you two! You sure are big eaters!” Akira perked up on hearing a familiar voice. A young woman in a Big Bang Burger uniform walked towards them, fluffy hair bobbing up and down.

“... Haru?”

“Mhm!” Haru smiled.

“Wait, you _work_ here? But you’re-” Ryuji was cut off by a terrifying smile.

“Of course I work here, I’m a regular girl!” Haru winked with both eyes, one after another. “I’m just here for some practical experience, that’s all. It’s fun!” 

“Niijima-san! We need a hand in here!” Haru glanced over her shoulder at somebody calling from the kitchen.

“Makoto doesn’t work here too, does she?” Ryuji asked, clearly trying to imagine Makoto in a Big Bang Burger uniform and failing. Haru shook her head.

“I’ll be right there!” Haru called, and she took off with a little wave.

“... Wait, she’s Niijima?” Ryuji asked. “Did they get married?” 

Akira laughed at him, and he looked back with the innocence of an offended child. “What? It’s a legitimate question! You’re dating them, you should know!”

“Have you _never_ heard of a fake name?

* * *

_4/30. Evening_

Ryuji went back to Leblanc for the evening, citing ‘too much effin’ food’ as the cause of his exhaustion, leaving Akira with some free time. 

Of course, the first thing he did was head straight to the red-light district, like any responsible teenager.

Luckily, his target hadn’t moved since he’d last been in Tokyo. He sat down in the chair unceremoniously.

“Good evening, Akira-kun!” Chihaya didn’t bat an eye at his sudden appearance, much to Akira’s dismay. “I was wondering why the cards foretold the visitation of the Trickster!” 

“Isn’t that cheating?” Akira asked, glancing at the cards arranged on the table.

“You’re one to talk about cheating, mister.” Chihaya gave him a faux glare, picking up the cards and shuffling them. “Do you want a reading?”

“I’ll take one,” Akira replied, watching Chihaya begin to play with the cards. “How have you been?”

“Business has been good!” Chihaya said, her tone jovial. “Now that I don’t need to share my earnings with the Assembly, I’ve actually been making a nice profit, and people have been coming by in droves. It’s a little overwhelming, honestly.” Chihaya placed a few cards on the table idly, with practiced grace.

“That’s a lot of cards,” Akira commented. Chihaya had placed nine cards in a circle on the table, with a tenth in the centre - the most he’d ever seen her dole out in one reading.

“It’s been a while, and you _are_ the Fool who possesses the World. The cards are simply calling for you.”

Chihaya started turning over cards, and Akira felt a pulse of energy in the air. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it happened so consistently around Chihaya that he’d learned not to take it lightly. 

“There… Hm. You have quite a number of reversed cards…” Chihaya trailed off, eyes scanning what she had drawn. 

Akira wasn’t an expert with the tarot, but he knew that was typically concerning. “What do you think it means?”

“It’s complicated,” Chihaya murmured, picking the centre card up and twirling it in her hand. 

“The World remains in the centre, a sign of what you’ve grasped, but around it some of the Arcana shift. The Emperor with the King of Wands stands over the reversed Four of Wands. The upright Fool holds the Four of Cups, but is watched over by the reversed High Priestess, wielding the Eight of Swords. The reversed Ace of Pentacles looms over the upright Empress, who reaches towards the Nine of Pentacles…” Chihaya tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“What do you think it means?”

“I don’t really know. I could make another reading, but it typically only makes things more confusing. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

“It’s fine! Thank you.” Akira grinned, but Chihaya didn’t smile back.

As Akira stood to leave, Chihaya started placing her cards back in the deck. She fumbled and the deck slipped out of her hands, falling onto the pavement below. Akira immediately crouched, helping her pick up the cards from the ground. He glanced at the first card he picked up.

Justice stared back.

* * *

_5/1. Daytime_

“Ooh, and then we can go and check out the crepes here, and then we can-” Akira half-listened with a bemused smile as Ann laid out their plans for the day. He hadn’t expected her plans to be so… improvised, and yet _so_ exceptionally detailed. He’d be surprised if she missed _any_ sweet shop in Tokyo.

“- and find something filling for Shiho-” Ann’s phone buzzed.

“Is it your agency?” Akira asked.

“No, I told them I was busy this week, what’s…” Ann trailed off, reading the message. She looked up at Akira, eyes bright. “Change of plans!”

* * *

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Kurusu-kun.” The voice across the table was bright and full of energy, near blinding compared with the others at the restaurant.

“Likewise, Takeba-san,” Akira murmured, taking in the woman sitting in front of him through Ishtar’s insistent eyes. Clad in an unassuming pink shirt and shorts, she didn’t look the part of a celebrity, but Ann (and Futaba, and Ryuji) had thoroughly drilled in just how _big_ of a deal she was.

“So which one of your boyfriends is this?” Yukari asked, glancing in Ann’s direction.

“... I only have one boyfriend...?” Ann replied, befuddled. Akira laughed, watching Ann visibly process what she meant.

Yukari looked taken aback for a moment. “Really? Is this the vulgar one?” 

“What- No- Ryuji’s not- I mean-” Ann fumbled with her words, face going as red as her whip.

“They’re not ready to admit it,” Akira stage-whispered over the table, “but they’re practically soulmates.”

Akira felt a thwack on the back of his head, but the look on Ann’s face was worth the pain. 

* * *

_5/1. Evening_

Akira trudged into Untouchable, weighed down by the sheer quantity of food in his system. He really shouldn’t have done the Big Bang Challenge the day before Ann’s sweet trials.

“Hey, kid, you browsing?” Iwai’s gruff voice came from over the counter. 

Akira met it with a grin. He’d come to appreciate that voice, really. “No, just a courtesy visit. Is this a good time?” 

“Thank god,” Iwai said, “I was worried you were gonna get me wrapped up in your business again.” Iwai shook his head, snickering. “Any time’s a good time for you, kid.”

“How’s Kaoru?” 

“He’s doin’ well. Sticks out like a sore thumb at Shujin, but he seems to like it there,” Iwai chuckled. “Think he’s playing games at home or somethin’ right now.” 

Akira glanced around the store, checking they were alone, before he leaned in. Iwai - recognising the gesture - did the same.

“You haven’t had any run-ins with your old gang, have you?” Akira asked.

“Nah, they’ve stayed clear. What’s up?” Iwai’s voice was gravelly, but Akira sifted out the hints of concern from it.

“End of March, some guy calling himself Masa’s brother tried to pick a fight.” Iwai frowned at the news. “He ended up in police custody, and I haven’t had to deal with anybody else since, but I figured you’d want to know.”

“Shit, kid. Glad you got out fine. That woulda been when you went back home, right? I don’t even know where you came from, so I don’t gotta clue how that info leaked.” Iwai chewed thoughtfully on his lollipop. “I’ll dig into it a little, see if I can get the word out not to fuck with ya. How’d the police take him?”

“I wasn’t around to see it,” Akira said, rueful. “There weren’t any witnesses, so I called the cops and got out of there.”

Iwai chuckled. “Nice one, kid. You’re the most dangerous goody two-shoes I’ve ever met. Do y’ want to come over for dinner or something?”

“Sorry, I’m booked,” Akira sighed. “I’m only up for Golden Week, and I’m busy enough as it is. Tell Kaoru I said hi, okay?”

“Sure. Stay well, kid.”

* * *

_5/2. Morning_

Akira dug his hands into the dirt, feeling a welcome squelch beneath his fingers. He lifted some of the soil out and sprinkled it in Haru’s hair.

“Wha- Hey!” Haru gave him a reproachful look, shaking her head to get the dirt out.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” Akira snorted. 

Haru placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and smiled at him. “These seeds won’t plant themselves, you know!” 

The pair got back to work.

* * *

_5/2. Afternoon_

“Your coffee is as delicious as always, Akira.” Haru sipped languidly, savouring the taste of Akira’s best brew.

“I’m glad to hear I haven’t lost my touch.” Akira winked, earning a giggle from Haru. He reached into his bag. “Oh, and, this is for you.”

Haru took the piece of leather in her hands and examined it. It was covered in a collection of embroidered flowers, bushes, and other plants. “It’s wonderful!”

“It’s an axe sheath. I figured you could make use of it.” Akira looked away awkwardly, his tone subdued.

“I _was_ wondering why you asked for pictures of my axes.” Haru placed her hand on his shoulder. “I love it, Akira, thank you.” Her tone was warm, and Akira smiled in response.

“I’ve never used an axe, so… I hope it’s good enough? You should thank Kanji-kun, though. He did most of the work.” 

Haru rolled her eyes. Akira was lovely and all, but he couldn’t accept when he did something nice. “I’m thanking you both. I’m glad you thought of me, silly.”

* * *

“- then, Mako-chan thought he was making a move on me, and he was on the floor before he noticed she was there. She apologised immediately, though.” Haru regaled Akira with tales from their self-defense classes, and Akira - while he wasn’t surprised - was _very_ amused at Makoto’s jealous streak.

“She’s protective, isn’t she?” Akira hummed. “The only time I’ve seen her get mad like that was back when the Reaper knocked down Ann.”

“Oh, I remember that! I could feel her radiation from the other side of the room. If I didn’t love her, I would’ve been terrified.”

“You should’ve heard Ryuji’s shriek. He sounded like Morgana when I step on his tail.”

“Oh no!” Haru looked distressed. “Don’t step on Mona-chan’s tail!”

“I don’t do it on purpose!” Akira protested, placing his hand on Haru’s. 

Haru squeezed his hand, giving him a gentle smile. “Are you sure?”

“... I did, once. Then I felt bad and spent half the day apologising!”

“As you should!”

* * *

_5/3. Morning_

“Yes, that is the perfect position. Please, hold still, while I capture your visage. I cannot allow such beauty to slip through my hands while it is held so close!” 

Akira was not particularly comfortable, but he held his pose on the floor and batted his eyelashes alluringly at Yusuke. Yusuke did not react.

* * *

“Yusuke, are you done yet?”

“...”

“... Yusuke?”

“...”

“Fox?”

“...”

“Fair enough.”

* * *

“I shall return momentarily. Please do not move.” Yusuke stood up and walked to the other room. Akira, incredibly uncomfortable at this point, only reluctantly complied. 

“Are you almost done?” he called.

“I am much closer to completion than I expected,” Yusuke replied. “You shall not have to hold that pose for much longer.” He soon returned with a fresh selection of paints.

Akira sighed. Yusuke’s understanding of time was unique, and he could only hope it was shorter rather than longer.

* * *

_5/3. Daytime_

“I am finished!” Yusuke exclaimed, bowing in his model’s direction. “Thank you, Akira, for your patience.” 

Akira wobbled as he stood up, waving his arms and legs around to bring them back to life. Unfortunately, it had been longer. “I hope it turned out well.”

“It did not.”

“Huh?” Akira turned, blinking in surprise. 

Yusuke laughed, turning the canvas around. He’d painted a stunning rendition of Akira splayed out on the floor, looking more like a photograph than a painting. “It was merely a joke - your countenance leads to a masterpiece every time I attempt to capture it. Again, I must thank you for your time.” 

“As long as I get payment, I’m fine,” Akira laughed, stepping closer to Yusuke. 

“... Payment? I’m sorry, I don’t have-” Yusuke’s concern was halted in its track by a stolen kiss.

“Thanks for your business!” Akira smirked, watching colour come to Yusuke’s pale cheeks.

“You could have just asked…” 

* * *

_5/4. Daytime_

“Gamers!”

“Gaming!” 

“What, exactly, are you two doing?” Sumire looked between Futaba and Akira, confused. They both just smiled at her.

“It’s gamer time!” Futaba exclaimed, throwing a controller at Sumire. She caught it with reflexive ease, and looked down at it uncertainly.

“What are we playing, exactly?” 

“Video games, I assume,” Akira replied, his face stoic as though that explained everything Sumire sighed.

* * *

“No! Sumi, don’t roll! He’s going to- Stop rolling! You’ve been punished for it four times this _game_ !” Futaba’s voice rang out over the clacking of controllers. Sumire was trying her best, but Futaba and Akira were both _leagues_ above her in terms of gaming ability. She struggled to keep up watching, let alone playing.

“Your jumping habit isn’t much better, Futaba,” Akira commented, landing a killing blow. Futaba grumbled at him in return.

* * *

“I have to win, right? I’ve got all the bonus stars, a four star lead…” Futaba counted on her fingers, bouncing in her seat.

“Not if Sumi rolls a nine,” Akira murmured, nodding at the gymnast as he spoke.

“Come on, that’s a 1/10 chance, and then she needs to get lucky on Chance Time, and-”

“Oh, a nine!” 

“Fu-”

* * *

“That game was totally mine…” Futaba pouted, staring at the results screen from dead last. 

Sumire placed her hand on Futaba’s gently. “You played really well!” 

Futaba’s face glowed red, but she squeezed Sumire’s hand and leaned against her.

“I’m surprised you didn’t just kiss her better immediately,” Akira laughed, shaking his head as he looked away. When he looked back, both Futaba and Sumire had been replaced with remarkably convincing tomato look-alikes.

“We-” 

“I-” 

He had no clue why Futaba and Sumire were so flustered. Did he say something weird? He only said…

“... What, don’t you like kissing?” Akira asked. 

Futaba clapped her free hand over her worryingly red face. Sumire, for her part, gaped like a fish recently introduced to oxygen. 

“It’s not… We don’t…” Sumire trailed off, trying to find her bearings.

“You do like kissing?” Akira tried.

“... Maybe?” 

“You don’t know?” Akira looked between the two and their shy hand-holding. “You haven’t _kissed?_ ”

“It’s embarrassing when you say it like that!” Futaba protested, muffled from where her hand still covered her face.

“Didn’t you say she kissed you on Valentine’s?”

“On the cheek! That’s all!” Sumire waved her hand around, a desperate attempt to achieve some kind of composure or grace.

Akira put his head in his hands. He’d heard of taking it slow, but it’d been almost _three months_. Maybe he was just too fast - he’d picked up five people in the span of a year - but the two of them were _losers._ He sighed. “Come on, nerds, let’s play more.”

* * *

_5/5. Daytime_

“Take that!” Makoto fired an expert shot, bullet piercing through two enemies and hitting an explosive barrel. She pumped her free hand in the air as the small crowd gasped in awe.

“On your six!” Akira called out, firing a shot to cover her retreat. Instead of retreating, though, Makoto spun on the spot and popped two shots, both opponents falling in an instant. Akira could only watch as Makoto dove further into enemy lines with seemingly no care for her own health. He fired off some supporting shots, watching as Makoto single-handedly stormed into the enemy base. Queen was out in full force.

It could’ve just been luck, but Makoto played Gun About with a practiced grace he hadn’t seen in her before. He watched her effortlessly sneak behind an enemy and fill their back with buckshot. He’d have to ask how long she’d spent practicing while he was gone.

* * *

“Watch out, the guy on the enemy team is really good!” Akira called, watching himself die. Makoto gritted her teeth and laid suppressive fire, keeping Akira’s killer locked in a building. While the two exchanged noncommittal fire, both refusing to put themselves at risk, Akira glanced at the username which had killed him. It seemed familiar.

“Get out, Oda! You coward!” Makoto hissed, eyes burning. Akira glanced back at the username. She was right, that was definitely Shinya’s... but it didn’t say Oda anywhere in it. 

* * *

“You got pretty good at Gun About while I was gone, huh?” Akira queried, stretching his hands as he spoke. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m that good…” Makoto murmured, clearly a little embarrassed about how worked up she’d gotten in the arcade.

“You were good enough to give Shinya a run for his money, which is better than I could do.” Akira turned, raising an eyebrow. 

“I just got lucky. He’s way better than I am.”

“Not going to ask who Shinya is?” Akira smiled, seeing distress worm its way through Makoto’s facade. 

“I just… looked into the people you were friends with! That’s all!” 

“I’m sure.” Akira did not believe her.

* * *

_5/5. Evening_

“So, when’s Sae-san getting home?” Akira yawned, splayed out on Sae’s couch. Even if Makoto had moved out for college, Sae was still in the city, and - more importantly - was supposed to have dinner with them.

“She said she’d be home by now,” Makoto said, glancing out the window. “Maybe she’s running late.” She pulled out her phone, checking for any updates. Almost as if on cue, her phone started ringing. 

“Hello, it’s Makoto. Did something come up, Sis?” Makoto put the phone on speaker and held it out for Akira to listen.

“Sorry, Makoto, I have to cancel.” Sae sighed, irritation clear even through the phone. “Something urgent came up at work, and I need to stay behind for an interview. I tried my best to convince them, but they wouldn’t listen. I’m not sure if I’ll be home tonight. Give my regards to Akira-kun, would you?” Sae went quiet for a moment, a distant voice faintly audible. “… I’ll be right there! Sorry, I need to go.”

“That’s fine! Good luck!” Makoto replied, hanging up. She looked at Akira and shrugged. 

“Sucks, but at least we get some alone time,” Akira joked, winking at Makoto. She blushed a little.

“This is Sis’s place, we can’t do anything here! Besides, you need to get on the train-” Akira cut her off with a kiss. She rolled her eyes, exasperated, but kissed him back regardless.

* * *

_5/5. Late Night_

“Good evening, Sae Niijima. I’m here to ask you a few questions.”

Sae took in the imperious woman standing in front of her, clad in a tight-fitting black suit with a pristine fur coat slung around her shoulders. Her red hair spilled out like a wave, contrasting beautifully against her suit. 

“What can I help you with?” Sae stepped towards the table the woman was standing beside, placing a hand on her chair, but she did not sit. 

“My name is Mitsuru Kirijo,” the woman stated. She placed a hand on the table and spread documents from a folder. “What do you know about the Phantom Thieves?” 

Sae looked between the documents, displaying a few familiar faces, and the outline of what looked to be a gun at her hip. She braced herself. This would not be her first interview about the Phantom Thieves, but this woman’s posture indicated more than enough about her. This would be her hardest interview yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a fun and cute chapter to write. next one is fairly laid back, and then after that we getting into shenanigans


	7. Waiting for Summer

_5/5. Late Night_

“What makes you think I would know about the Phantom Thieves?” Sae asked. They both stood, refusing to be the first to sit. She rested her hand on the back of her chair - a silent challenge.

“You interrogated their leader, did you not?” Mitsuru’s voice was convincingly casual, as if this were a normal dinner between friends, rather than a high-stakes conversation about the most high-profile group of criminals in recent history.

“Do you have proof of that?”

“Of course I do, Niijima,” Mitsuru snapped, throwing another document onto the paper-laden table. 

Sae glanced through the documentation. Even if her refusal to comply was confirmation of her involvement, she would not admit defeat until her last breath. 

Internal police documents detailing her interview with the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Mitsuru had both proof of authorization and copies of Sae’s personal notes from the interview. Every piece was damning.

“Alright. So, what do you want? I didn’t get very much out of them.” 

“... Sit down. We can have this discussion without hostility.” Mitsuru’s casual tone slipped, and a layer of frost bit through her words. Sae noted a point in her favour as the two sat. “I have reason to believe you know the identities of the Phantom Thieves, and that you may have even collaborated with them in their efforts to take down Masayoshi Shido.”

“A bold claim. What makes you think that?” 

“We could save a lot of time if you didn’t answer me in questions at every possible opportunity, Niijima.” 

Sae met Mitsuru’s gaze coolly, watching her twitch ever so slightly. She wasn’t entirely sure how, but she had the high ground, and she intended to make as much use of it as she could.

“You’re expecting me to volunteer information which I don’t know,” Sae said. “I’m sure you can forgive me for my reticence, Kirijo.” 

“... What happened on Christmas Eve?” Mitsuru spoke with clipped, annoyed words. She stared at Sae, piercing and unyielding.

She wouldn’t give in _that_ easily. “You’ll have to refresh my memory, sorry.” Sae returned her stare with her own cold glare. “Is there something special about that date?” She left the question open, feeling out Mitsuru for information. 

If she knew about Christmas Eve, it made her much more credible. Perhaps trustworthy, perhaps exceptionally more dangerous... or, possibly, both.

“You’re not going to volunteer anything, are you?” Mitsuru murmured, almost to herself. She sat up straighter in her chair. A light flashed into her eyes, and a hint of a smile grew on her face. She was enjoying this.

If Mitsuru was having fun with this, Sae wasn’t going to hold herself back either. “I’m always happy to volunteer for a good cause.”

“Is that so? Don’t think I didn’t notice your implication, Niijima.” Mitsuru crossed her arms and stared Sae down, somehow finding even more intensity to aim in her direction. Sae couldn’t help but feel a chill run down her spine at the ferocity contained within that gaze.

“I don’t see how I would benefit from volunteering information to the Kirijo group with no recompense, even if their _industrious_ leader herself came for my interrogation.” Sae spoke smoothly, echoing Mitsuru’s prior casual tone.

“If you seek payment, we would be more than capable of arranging something of the sort.” 

“You’d need to make it worth my while.” Sae had no intention of selling out the Phantom Thieves, but it could never hurt to see just how much Mitsuru wanted her information. 

“I don’t believe any amount of money would be enough to satisfy you, Niijima.” Mitsuru’s words were hard and filled with ice - not unlike many of the criminals she’d faced down in her days as a prosecutor. It was only those years of practice that kept Sae from recoiling. 

“Why would that be?”

“Akira Kurusu changed your heart.” 

The silence was deafening.

“I don’t recall any recent confessionals I attended,” Sae stated, unflinchingly.

“I see you’re not denying his name.”

“If you have a name, I can’t imagine I have anything else to tell you.” Sae made to rise from her chair. “I couldn’t possibly waste any more of your time, after all.”

“ _Sit._ **_”_ ** Sae shuddered at the tone of an empress and obeyed. Mitsuru’s hand traced the outline of the gun at her hip. Her expression brooked no argument. 

“What do you want to know, Kirijo?” Sae asked, leaning forward and placing her elbows on the table.

“How did the Phantom Thieves pull off their crimes? How did they change hearts?” Mitsuru mirrored her posture, the two women gazing deeply into one another’s eyes. “What _happened_ on Christmas Eve?”

* * *

_5/6. Early Morning_

Makoto yawned as she looked through Sae’s fridge, not quite sure what she was looking for. Akira left on a late train back to Inaba, but since she didn’t have school in the morning, Makoto had decided to just stay at Sae’s for the night. She’d expected Sae to be home the whole night, which made her sudden interview all the more awkward. Makoto wasn’t sure what to do - she wanted to see her sister, but she _also_ wanted to go to sleep.

Something rattled, and as soon as Makoto passed her reflex to look for ghosts, she realised her decision had been made for her.

She turned to face Sae, who - though visibly tired - looked like she would either collapse or stay up another 20 hours. “Welcome home, Sis!”

Sae raised a hand in response, only moderately perturbed by the greeting at three in the morning. “Hey, Makoto. Did Akira-kun go home already?”

“He left a few hours ago,” Makoto confirmed. She looked Sae up and down. “How was it?”

Sae simply groaned, dropping on the couch like a cartoon piano. 

“Bad?” Makoto asked.

Sae rolled onto her back with a sigh. “I had some questions asked about the Phantom Thieves,” Sae said, gazing steadily at Makoto. “This one was more persistent than usual, too.”

“Do you know why?” Makoto wasn’t unfamiliar with Sae being interviewed about the Phantom Thieves - it happened every so often - but it had been long enough she’d assumed it was over.

“Not a clue. I got the feeling she knew more than most, but I couldn’t get that much information.” Sae reclined on the couch as she spoke, hand draped over the edge like a character from a drama Makoto couldn’t quite remember off the top of her head.

“Any information for us?”

Sae paused. 

“I’ll get back to you on that one.” Sae’s voice was uncertain. “I have a few leads of my own I’d like to follow up on.”

“Is something wrong, Sis?” Makoto wasn’t the best with body language, but she knew her sister, and something was _off._

“It’s just…” Sae trailed off, sitting up and placing a hand on her chin. “I’m not sure, but I want to tackle this myself.”

“Be sure to tell us if anything comes up, okay?”

“I will. Don’t worry, Makoto.”

* * *

_5/9. After School_

“Is there a problem with me joining the club?” Akira asked, showing the drama club president a friendly smile.

“It’s not that there’s a problem…” The drama club president fiddled with her enrolment sheet.

“... Is the club full?” 

“... Yes! Yes, it is. I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to tell you.” 

Akira was certain the club was not full.

* * *

“You want to try soccer?” 

“Is there space open?” Akira had asked around. There were plenty of slots left.

“I dunno, man. Are you sure you’re up to it?” The soccer captain eyed him up, taking in Akira’s lithe form with an - as far as Akira was concerned - unfair eye.

“I can almost guarantee I’m faster than your team.” Akira stood, nonchalant, nodding around at the empty oval.

“I doubt it.” 

“I’ll show you.” Akira grinned. 

The soccer captain rolled his eyes. “Sure, why not? Go for your life, buddy.” He gestured in the distance, and Akira took off.

He wasn’t surprised when he got back and the captain was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

“It’s not a big deal, we just need you to do this for us…”

Akira was halfway to his next club tryout when a familiar scene caught his eye. He sidled up to a group of boys crowded together with a threatening aura, and clapped a hand on the talker’s arm. 

“Shit!” Talking Boy recoiled, the semi-circle dispersing into a confused mob. The first year in the center looked around, dazed at the sudden intrusion.

“What’s going on, everybody?” Akira asked, grin wide and showing a few too many teeth. Talking Boy glanced between him and the intimidated boy (who, recognizing the opportunity, was trying to sidle out unobtrusively) and coughed loudly. Intimidated Boy snapped back and stood straight, trying to act like Akira’s name for him was inaccurate.

“Nothing.” 

One of the goons behind Talking Boy muttered something, looking around (for teachers, Akira assumed). A very unsubtle elbow to the ribs from one of his friends ensured that he kept quiet. Talking Boy stepped forward.

“What’s up? Did you get lost?” Talking Boy’s voice dripped with false courtesy. 

“What did you want him to do for you?” Akira asked, stepping through the group and slinging an arm around Intimidated Boy’s shoulders. Talking Boy and his goons looked at each other.

“None of your business.” 

“Why not?” Akira asked, leering at the group in front of him.

“It’s just not. Get out of here.” Talking Boy dropped all pretenses of civility. The glare on his face told Akira everything he needed to know. 

Akira gave the faintest of smirks but said nothing, turning and walking off, dragging Intimidated Boy with him.

“Hey, leave him here. We’re not done with him.”

Akira didn’t stop.

“Hey, I said-” 

Akira sped up a little, pushing Intimidated Boy along. He was just doing what he was told, which made Akira’s job easier.

“Hey!” A hand grabbed Akira’s collar and pulled. Akira let go of Intimidated Boy and hit the ground hard. He looked up dully at Talking Boy, who stood over him, foot much closer to his head than it had any right to be.

“What’s up?”

“I’ll give you one chance,” Talking Boy began, “to get out of here. You’re new around here, aren’t you?” 

Akira glanced around, seeing himself surrounded even as he climbed to his feet. Intimidated Boy had disappeared, though, which was good. “Pretty much. Is there a problem?”

“Listen,” Talking Boy smiled at Akira in what was _supposed_ to be an intimidating fashion but really hit just shy of childish. “Sometimes I just ask my friends to give me a hand. That’s normal. Friends help each other out. We don’t really appreciate it when people like you butt in, alright?” 

“Don’t worry, I understand,” Joker’s voice burned. He stepped forward towards Talking Boy. To his credit, Talking Boy kept a tough face, but the reflexive step back betrayed him. “I’ve seen your type before. What are you making him do?” 

“You think you’re some bigshot, do you?” Talking Boy chuckled, cracking his knuckles and finding some composure. Joker rolled his eyes. This kid had watched too many movies.

“No, but you clearly do. Let me guess. You’re getting him to carry shit you don’t want to get caught with?” Talking Boy’s eyes widened, and Joker smirked. Pinpoint accuracy.

“I don’t know what you think you know, but you don’t know anything, alright?” Talking Boy hissed, glancing around. 

“What happens if I turn you in?” Joker queried, gaining composure as his opponent lost it.

“You don’t want to do that.”

“I think I do,” Joker replied, and turned to leave.

The moment his hand made contact with his shoulder, Joker turned in place and grabbed Talking Boy’s wrist. He ducked, watching the other hand fly wildly over his head. The surrounding goons cried out as Joker grabbed his other wrist, holding his arms in an X formation.

“If you wanted to hold my hand, you should have just asked!” Joker teased, Talking Boy’s face going crimson. He tried to rush Joker even through the hold, but Joker pushed back and effortlessly sent him flying.

“Shit, ow, fuck…” Talking Boy cursed from the ground, struggling to get up. His collection of goons milled around, muttering to each other about whether they should step in. Joker fixed them with a steely gaze. The muttering stopped instantly.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Joker stated, looking around to ensure they were all paying attention. Once he was satisfied, he continued. “I won’t tell anybody about this as long as it ends now. If I hear even a whisper that any of this shit continued, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

* * *

“Hey, are you alright?” Akira jogged over to Intimidated Boy, hidden in a corner nearby. He was breathing heavily, arms wrapped around himself while he shook like a leaf in a tornado. Akira could guess what that meant. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m here. Do you need a drink?” 

The boy nodded, trying to steady his shuddering breath while Akira rifled through his bag. Morgana jumped out and paced around the two, keeping watch. He handed a water bottle to the boy.

“Is this normal?” 

The boy nodded in response, guzzling from the water bottle like it was life itself. He wiped off his mouth and handed the bottle to Akira.

“Yeah,” the boy replied, shaky and high-pitched. “I was just lucky that they’d taken this long to get to me.”

“Do any of the teachers know about this?” 

“Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate, but Akira motioned for him to continue. “Hiroki’s father runs the PTA, so nobody wants to accuse him of anything.”

Akira hummed, glancing at his phone idly. Last time he had this kind of problem… Well, that was then. “I’ll see what I can do. Here, have my number, and give me a call if they try anything else.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Intimidated Boy asked, suddenly looking serious. 

Akira smiled warmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

* * *

_5/13. Evening_

It was warm under the Dojimas’ kotatsu - a welcome change from the night’s unseasonably chilly weather - and Nanako and Akira were arguing over homework.

“He’s just writing about how much he loves his family,” Nanako protested.

“I get that, but your teacher wants you to look deeper.” Akira paused, reading over the poem again. He tapped a line with his finger. “Why does he describe his mother like a tree?”

Nanako looked at him like he’d grown a second, third, _and_ fourth head. Akira exhaled.

“How about…” Akira tried his hardest to come up with a good explanation, but he was grasping for straws. Change of plans, then. “Actually, let’s take a break.” he suggested (at Metatron’s insistence). Nanako readily agreed, and the two set aside all thoughts of homework.

The following moment of silence was interrupted by a song from the TV, which Nanako hummed along to. That reminded him. “Oh, Nanako-chan,” Akira began, “you said you’re friends with Rise-chan, right?” 

“I am,” Nanako confirmed with an _angelic_ smile. “She’s very nice.” 

“How did you meet?”

“Well…”

Nanako trailed off, gathering her thoughts and her phone. “She’s Big Bro’s friend from school, and she - and all of his other friends - were all really nice to me even though I was a little kid. The friendship just sort of stuck."

Akira couldn’t help but notice that everything Nanako mentioned started six years ago. Interesting, but that was neither here or now. 

Nanako held out her phone, and Akira peered at the screen. It was a picture of a much younger Nanako in a cute pink and yellow dress that reminded him of idol outfits he’d seen before. 

“Aww, that’s a cute outfit,” Akira said. “Where did you get that?” 

“It’s from when I met Kanamin!” Nanako exclaimed. “Rise let me meet her.” 

Akira smiled, quietly trying to recall who ‘Kanamin’ was. The name was familiar…

“... Kanamin. The idol?”

“Yep!”

“When did you meet her?” Akira wasn’t big into idols, but he kept up with news around Rise. Kanamin - Kanami Mashita, if he recalled correctly - was both one of her biggest rivals and co-stars, and a _hit_ in the idol field. Meeting her was a big deal.

“We danced together at a festival.” Nanako fiddled for a moment and showed Akira the screen again.

On-screen, a younger Nanako danced next to a girl he recognised as Kanamin. More surprisingly, they were on _stage_ together in coordinated outfits, almost as though they were performing at an actual concert. He scanned the stage behind them (as blurry as the video might be) and noticed - just when he thought it couldn’t get any weirder - that they were definitely on stage at the _Love Meets Bonds festival._ He vaguely recalled hearing stories about a little girl the fans loved amid all of the serious technical issues during the festival itself, but… _Nanako?_ How connected _was_ she? 

“... Wait a second, is that _Yosuke?_ And _Teddie?_ ” Akira tapped the phone screen in shock, staring at Yosuke’s horrified face and Teddie’s all-too-familiar sight bear suit - wearing a fancy white suit - on stage.

“Yeah, they danced with us. It was a lot of fun.” Nanako didn’t seem even slightly perturbed by any of this. Was this _normal_? Did people just dance with famous idols at massive festivals? 

“What do people at school think of this?” Akira asked, face held with patented stoicism. 

“They’re more surprised than you are whenever it comes up.” Nanako giggled, poking him in the shoulder. “Come on, I know you can’t believe it! Don’t act like that.”

“How could you tell?” Akira put his hand on his neck and grinned at her.

“Big Bro’s even better at hiding it than you are.” 

“Oh, yeah? What’s he like?” He had to admit, he was interested in Nanako’s ‘Big Bro’. Just about everybody in town had their own story about him. It was… oddly familiar.

“He’s really cool. And he’s really nice, and strong!” 

“What’s he up to?”

“I’m… not really sure? He works for the government or something.” Nanako thought for a moment, fingers playing in a rhythm with her pencil. “I don’t get to see him very often, ‘cause he’s so busy.” 

“Well, I’m sure he loves you even when he can’t see you,” Akira murmured on reflex.

“Of course I know that!” Nanako bapped his forehead with her pencil, laughing quietly. “I think he’s coming back for a bit in the summer. I’ll introduce you,” she offered.

“I would love to meet him, but I’m actually planning on spending summer in Tokyo,” Akira explained, a little disappointed himself. Nanako’s face fell.

“Oh, that’s okay,” she said, but Akira felt a little bad.

“Maybe you can introduce me next time?” Akira suggested. “Now, how about we get back to work, okay?”

* * *

_5/23. Evening_

Akira set down plates of curry with a flourish, prompting a small round of applause from his parents. He bowed, and his parents cheerfully dug into their curry. He waited to take a bite of his own food, watching for their reactions with what he recognized to be a little more caution than necessary. As soon as his mother nodded to his father, he sighed, relieved, and began to eat as well. He truly enjoyed cooking, but this was one of the first times he’d actually cooked for his parents. There was something nice about it. It made him feel validated.

“So, Aki-tan,” his mother asked between mouthfuls of curry, “you learned this from Sakura-san, right?”

“I did. Why do you ask?” Hadn’t he’d already told his mother that?

“Is this the special Leblanc curry we’ve heard so much about?” 

“It is.” Akira confirmed. He was pretty sure he’d said that before, too.

“How did you convince him to teach you his signature dish?” Sato asked, taking another bite almost before she finished talking. Akira was flattered - mostly - that she couldn’t bear to be separated from the curry.

“I helped out around the store, and he wanted me to work in the kitchen sometimes...?” Akira ended the statement as a question.

“He won’t tell anyone his recipe,” Ren commented. “A friend of ours has tried to get the recipe for years, but he always says it’s a family secret.”

“Family secret?” Akira laughed, playing with his curry as he spoke. “It’s not quite family, but it sounds like something he’d say. A friend of his refined the recipe a long time ago. It’s his way of remembering her.”

“Oh, I didn’t know Sakura-san had a girlfriend,” Sato murmured.

“I don’t think they were in a relationship. Besides, she’s… not here anymore.” Akira’s voice lowered as he spoke, not quite comfortable bringing up the subject.

“He did say ‘remembering her’, honey,” Ren said, tone solemn.

“Well…” Sato looked around, searching for a topic change. “Speaking of relationships!” 

… Oh no.

“Surely somebody as _handsome_ as you must have broken some hearts in Tokyo, right?” Sato teased, patting Akira’s arm over the table. Akira stayed silent.

“No answer, eh? You can tell us, Aki-bō, don’t worry. I’ve heard girls nowadays like the bad boys,” Ren joked, but Akira sighed.

“It’s… complicated.” Akira hoped - more than before - that his parents would drop the subject.

“Do you still have feelings for her, even though you moved back here?” Sato asked, sounding more like a gossiping housewife than a concerned mother. “Aww, that’s precious, darling, straight out of a story book. Come on, tell us about her!”

“I…” Akira paused. He’d thought about this before, and every single time it had come up, he’d found himself wanting. How, exactly, do you explain to your parents that you happen to be the centre of a polycule? It would be awkward enough explaining he was dating _Ryuji,_ let alone another four people.

“There’s no need to be bashful, Aki-bō. Your mother and I weren’t always in the same place, you know.”

“We spent a lot of time apart for college! It was awful!” Sato whined, placing a hand on Ren’s arm. Ren gently held her hand, and the two gazed into one another’s eyes for a moment. Akira was both grossed out and… a little envious. 

He slipped away from the table like a thief in the evening, his parents too enamoured with one another to notice, and headed to his room. There was a lot he missed about Tokyo, but his friends took up nearly the entire top ten.

* * *

_6/2. After School_

Akira sat in the cafe quietly, staring at a small chess board, moving the pieces in silence. Black takes white, white takes black, black takes white, white takes black, black takes… checkmate. He sighed.

He’d asked for some alone time, so Morgana wasn’t with him today. Morgana hadn’t understood at first, but a glance towards the calendar explained everything, so he left Akira alone with his thoughts.

It was Akechi’s birthday. His nineteenth birthday, in fact, and nearly four months to the day after Akira had last seen the ex-Detective Prince. He… missed him.

It wasn’t like Akira to mope. Akechi wouldn’t approve. Even in his mind, Akechi was at odds with him, the two engaged in meaningless yet eternal conflict. If only…

_“Are you really so spineless that you’d fold over some bullshit, trivial threat on my life?”_

Of course he was, Akechi. Of course he was. He knew that he’d made the right decision - for both of them - but… it still hurt.

Metatron whirred in his mind, a reminder of the bond they shared, but Akira found no solace in the angel’s mechanical sounds. It wasn’t fair. Of everybody he’d met, the person who was the _most_ fucked over was the one he couldn’t save.

Akira closed his eyes. He could almost hear Akechi’s rare laugh, could almost see both the smile that crossed his face when he won and the shark-like grin that engulfed his face during the heat of battle. 

Akechi was a mass murderer - one of the most prolific in history. He was personally responsible for tens or even hundreds of deaths, and had through action or inaction allowed thousands more. Akira didn’t truly know how many accidents Akechi had caused, with well-timed mental shutdowns or information given to Shido, but… he’d had _two years_ to sow destruction, alone and unhindered in the Metaverse.

So why was he so torn? Why did he care so much about the boy who killed so many? 

_Because that could have been you_ , part of Akira answered. He wished he could say that, no, he never would’ve fallen that low, that he never would have let such horrible things happen, but…

Akechi was a Wild Card, just like he was. Tricksters, capable of enacting great change. Akira was just the lucky one. If Akira hadn’t had his friends, if he hadn’t known Morgana, if he’d come into his power scared and confused, all alone, with nothing but hatred and a vendetta…

He needed fresh air, he decided, as he walked out of the cafe. He didn’t know exactly where he was going, but he needed to do something else.

Sometimes he could still hear Akechi screaming out the name of his Persona. He even had the occasional nightmare where he couldn’t convince Sae, and Akechi’s plan succeeded. But… Maybe if he just…

Akira shook his head firmly, banishing the thoughts. He had tried so hard, and he’d even succeeded. Akechi had become, by the end, his friend. Hell, if Akira was honest with himself, Akechi was _more_ than a friend. He cared so deeply about a dead man. He cared about someone he lost and found and lost again. About somebody who couldn’t come back, but maybe if he wished hard enough…

Akechi would laugh and call him an idiot for caring so much when nobody else did. But wasn’t that his lot in life? His passion had allowed him to kill gods, and he’d be damned before he would surrender it. 

Akira returned silently to the cafe, about to pack up the board before he noticed - something was different. Black didn’t have a checkmate? He was almost certain he had one, but, no, there was still space for white’s king to move. A space he would’ve sworn was taken by a pawn, but it was empty. 

Even now, Akechi could still surprise him.

* * *

_6/10. After School_

Akira was hard at work in the electronics department and ignoring the feeling that he was being watched when he overheard something that made his heart leap into his throat.

“Detective Prince-”

In a moment, Joker stole his way over through the electronics department and into the clothing section of the store. Yosuke was deep in conversation with a figure with an oddly familiar blue cap on their head and - much to Joker’s surprise - the outline of a gun holster on their belt. Who…?

“Is it quite necessary to make such jokes, Yosuke-kun?” The person with the blue cap sighed, Yosuke laughing and patting them on the shoulder.

“You are _the_ original, aren’t you? Of course I-” Yosuke’s cajoling was cut off by Blue Cap’s sudden gasp, and they whirled around, scanning. Joker froze.

“Naoto…?” Yosuke asked, furrowing his brow. 

Naoto stepped forward, scrutinising the room before pointing to a coat rack. “If I may request as much, could you come out from there?” 

Joker left the safety of the rack with his hands up, looking this new person up and down. Yosuke’s tense gaze shattered the moment he saw the intruder, quickly being replaced by a cheery smile.

“It’s cool, Naoto-chan. This is Akira Kurusu, he works here.”

Naoto’s analytical gaze bore through Joker and stripped him bare. They slowly lowered their pointing finger, and nodded towards him.

“Pleased to meet you. My name is Naoto Shirogane.” They held their hand out, and Akira shook. Their grip was firm, and Satanael made his presence known with a single word.

… Fortune? Really?

“Anyway, was there something you wanted, Akira-kun?” Yosuke asked casually, breaking Akira from his stupor.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Akira hesitated. “I heard somebody mention the Detective Prince?”

“That would be this lovely lady here!” Yosuke winked, pointing at Naoto, who put a hand to her face and sighed.

“I discarded that moniker quite some time ago. My apologies for any confusion.”

Akira quickly put two and two together. “Oh, the first one.” 

“Indeed.” Naoto didn’t question any further, but her gaze made the hairs on Akira’s neck stand up.

“Have you been in the area long?” Akira asked, trying his best to divert the topic to something that didn’t hurt to think about.

“While I’ve been staying here for the past few months, I’ve been rather held up with work,” Naoto stated, voice professional. “As such, it is no surprise you aren’t familiar with me, despite the frequency of your interactions with Yosuke-kun.”

Yosuke, for his part, had already stepped back, and looked shocked to be brought back into the conversation.

“Do you know me from somewhere else?” Akira asked, face passive.

“Is this on account of my knowing that you interact frequently with Yosuke?” Akira only nodded in response. “Yosuke-kun mentions the individuals he works with frequently, and given your mannerisms and your name, it is easy to pick you out from many. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

Akira nodded again. He didn’t trust this first detective prince as far as he could throw the second. Something about the way she carried herself had him convinced that she was lying - by omission, if nothing else - and that she knew far, far more than she let on.

“So, you’re a detective?”

“Indeed,” she answered easily, a miniscule smile on her face, “that is how my occupation is often described. Are you particularly interested in the craft?”

“No, not really.” Akira gazed off into the middle distance for a moment. “I’ve had friends who are, though.”

Naoto simply nodded at him, her smile twitching almost imperceptibly. Akira returned to his work without another word, feeling the Detective Prince’s eyes on him all the while.

  
  


* * *

_6/15. Evening_

Akira stared aimlessly at a textbook, trying to convince himself to study, when the front door slammed. He looked up to see his father storm in, a cloud hanging over his head discharging lightning with every step he took. 

Behind him, Sato walked, a slump in her step like the energy had been drained from her or she’d been hit by Ominous Words.

“Bad day?” Akira murmured, more to open the conversation than as a question. Sato sat down at the table in a huff, while Ren threw himself on the couch with unintentional (as far as Akira could tell) dramatic flair.

Sato just huffed again from facedown on the table. If there were alcohol bottles scattered around, he’d almost think it was Ohya at the table instead of his mother. He reached out, patting his mother’s arm.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Sato scoffed. “Like you’d understand.” She raised her head with a groan, fixing him with a glare. “Just get back to your work and let me wallow in self-pity.” Her head fell back with a thump.

“My friends say I’m a pretty good sounding board,” Akira offered.

“Good for you.” 

Akira waited.

“It’s our boss…” Akira had to stifle a laugh as his mother started talking. It wasn’t the first time he’d been through this song and dance. 

“We worked our asses off on that project, but no, the promotion went to Yasuda, because he’s a ‘better face’ for the company. It’s… ugh.” Sato groaned, hands clenching and unclenching as she spoke. “It’s bullshit. We do _so much_ for the company, and to be respectable, but no, Yasuda’s better just because...” Sato stopped herself, returning her face to its resting place. 

Akira was intrigued. “Why didn’t you guys get it?”

“Akira…” Ren’s voice held a warning.

“Image.” Sato’s tone was clipped and bitter.

“... I don’t follow.” 

“Why, exactly, don’t you think we’re a good face for the company, Akira?” Sato asked, tone dripping with pent-up frustration. “What do you think about us makes us less presentable, less attractive for business partners? What do _you_ think could possibly mar our _perfect_ record, Akira?” 

Akira was silent.

“Why do you think we’ve tried so damn hard to keep you on track?” Sato’s tone progressed from dripping to a waterfall of frustration, a positive deluge that began to engulf the both of them. “What could possibly be the one thing that’s gone wrong in the last year, the one thing that never stops giving us more to worry about? Why could we _possibly_ be having problems with our boss because he can say, oh, I’m sorry, but if some of our business associates have to deal with you, they might look up your last name, and, oh, fucking look at that, there’s your family!” 

Sato’s head had whipped up, her jaw set and her tone rising just a touch as she spoke, but all at once, her energy vanished and she slumped back down on the table.

Akira looked between his mother and father, the latter of whom silently collected a blanket and draped it over her. He rubbed her shoulders, and slowly walked her up to their room, before returning and taking her place at the table.

“How is she?” Akira asked, unsure of how to proceed.

“She’s asleep. Today took a lot out of her.” Ren looked to the side, visibly facing the same issue as his son. There was a heavy pause.

“Look…” Ren began, placing a hand on the table and looking up at Akira. “Sato didn’t mean to say any of that, and I’m sorry that she did.”

Akira paused, waiting for Ren to continue, but he just looked down.

“But…?” 

“There is no but.” Ren sighed, exhausted. “Like it or not, it’s true. I wish it wasn’t.” 

“So I’m…” He couldn’t finish the statement, and even starting it left an awful taste in Akira’s mouth.

“Your reputation hurts us at work, yes.” 

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the night.

* * *

_6/22. After School_

“Happy birthday Hanamura~”

Yosuke sighed as a collection of Junes employees hemmed him in and forced their birthday wishes on him. Akira was their leader, singing boisterously - at Teddie’s behest, surely - and holding out a cake. Yosuke was pretty sure this was against some store regulation - and if it wasn’t, he was going to make sure it was. Teddie bounced around the outside of the circle, the loudest - and most painful - voice, and all in all it was a deplorable act of unprofessionalism.

Of course, it warmed his heart, even if he wasn’t going to admit it.

“Alright, alright, guys, that’s enough of that.” Yosuke held his hands in the air, surrendering to their chants. “Especially you, Ted! You’re gonna knock something over!” 

“Aww, but Yosuke, it’s so fun!” Teddie protested loudly, rolling around like a very round child having a tantrum.

One of the employees piped up from the back. “So... how old are you, Hanamura-san?” 

“You must be a dinosaur by now, right?” Akira asked, a round of guffaws and chuckles going around the circle. 

Yosuke blinked. “... A dinosaur?” Something about that felt… familiar. “... Hey, hang on, I’m not that old!”

“How old are you?”

“I’m like, 23! Some of you are older than I am!” 

“Are those new headphones? Did you get them today?” 

Yosuke’s hand went up to the headphones hanging around his neck, orange with beautiful green highlights.

“Yeah, my partner got them for me.” Yosuke grinned, putting them on his head. “Now I don’t have to listen to any of you!”

“You didn’t do that anyway!”

* * *

“Your partner got those for you?” Akira asked, gesturing at Yosuke's head. The cake was long gone - largely thanks to Teddie - but there was still some clean-up left to do from their impromptu lunch party.

“Yeah. What, you want a pair?” 

“No - well, maybe, but I was just wondering. Is he in the area?” Akira glanced around the lunch room, as if expecting the mysterious partner to emerge from a cupboard.

“Nah, he had them delivered,” Yosuke replied, sighing. He wasn’t _moping_ , but it would’ve been nice if Yu had time to spend with him. Damn Shadow Ops…

“Oh, that’s unfortunate.” Yosuke glanced up at Akira, who had a smirk on his face. “I would’ve liked to introduce Morgana to him.” The cat in question mewled from Akira’s bag, and Akira laughed, reaching over to play with his ears.

“He’d love the little guy,” Yosuke chuckled, watching the cat try to escape from Akira’s clutches. “Next time, maybe.”

* * *

_7/3. Early Morning_

_ann: Happy bday, Ryuji!_

_futababa: hap cris ryu- FUCK_

_ryuryu: how did you type that_

_ryuryu: in the middle of ariad;;_

_futababa: because im a gamer and i can type while i game_

_futababa: unlike u who has to devote all of ur brain to not losing to black cat_

_ryuryu: be nice its my bday_

_Haru: Happy birthday, Ryuji!_

_Makoto: I should have known you all would be watching the clock, but happy birthday, Ryuji._

_futababa: haha we got makoto to join the midnight gremlin club_

_Makoto: I am simply returning the favour. Besides, I was up late either way._

_Joker: Happy birthday, Ryuji. But doing what, Makoto?_

_Makoto: Studying, obviously._

_futababa: makoto u r literally logged into gun about rgt now_

_Makoto: I was..._

_Makoto: Planning on studying._

_futababa: do i need to tell them how long uv played in the past week_

_Makoto: Futaba, don’t you have an assignment due today?_

_futababa: … shit_

_inari: Happy birthday, Ryuji._

* * *

_7/9. Daytime_

“Aww, are you panda-ing to me?” 

Akira’s reply screeched to a halt as he processed what Teddie had just said. “Bears like fish, right?” Akira asked, before trying his damnedest to push the bear into the Samegawa.

Akira wasn’t quite sure how he’d been roped into it, but Yosuke convinced him to take Teddie out fishing for a day. He agreed in an instant, of course - it had been much too long since he had an excuse to fish - but he hadn’t realised just how difficult it would be teaching fishing to… well, Teddie.

“Hey! Hey! Don’t maul me!” Teddie rolled out of the way, more agile than ever without the constraints of his suit. For whatever reason, he’d decided that fishing called for a water-coloured outfit… so he wore a simple blue sundress. He looked incredible in it, but it looked much too pretty for fishing - or for Akira’s heart. Teddie was _unfairly_ attractive.

“Hey! Don’t get distracted!” Morgana’s whine broke the two out of their play-fight reverie as he padded up to them. “You’re supposed to be catching fish for me!”

“What’s the kitty cat want?” Teddie asked, smoothing out his dress and looking down at Morgana.

“For you to catch him something.” 

“That’s not beary fair!” Teddie pouted.

“It’s not that hard!” Morgana exclaimed, blissfully unaware of the actual difficulty of fishing.

“I can’t just catch fish on command! Cub on!” 

“That one wasn’t even good…” Akira moaned, throwing a punch in Teddie’s direction. It went nowhere close to him, but Teddie threw himself to the ground and clutched at his chest anyway. 

Akira and Morgana exchanged tired looks as Teddie cried something to do with agony. 

“You’re pawful to be around, you know that?”

Teddie was _ecstatic_.

* * *

_7/13. Evening_

_ann: you can do it! just ask!_

Akira took a deep breath, glancing at his phone for reassurance. It wasn’t going to be a big deal, and everything was already worked out. All he needed to do was ask.

“Hey, Mom, Dad…” Akira started, gathering their attention. They looked up from the laptop they were sharing as they worked. “Do you have a second?”

“What’s up, Aki-tan?” Sato asked, sitting up and turning away from the computer. Thankfully, Akira couldn’t hear anything other than simple curiosity in her voice, which meant he’d chosen a good time to ask.

“So, as you know, summer’s coming up…” Akira swallowed before going on. “So I was wondering if you’d be okay with me spending the summer in Tokyo? I already have everything worked out, I just need you to say yes!” Akira really hoped he didn’t sound as desperate as he thought.

Ren half-closed the laptop lid, sitting up and fully taking in the conversation. “You have it all planned, do you?”

“I do!” Akira nodded. “I can go up late on the 23rd or the morning of the 24th, and I can stay at Leblanc. Sojiro’s okay with it and everything, don’t worry, and he told me to tell you that he doesn’t want payment.” 

“You really have planned all of this out, huh?” Sato asked cheerily. “What about your summer homework?”

“I can get it done while I’m there-” Akira’s suggestion was immediately cut off as Ren shook his head.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to focus on schoolwork if you’re out having fun with your friends?” 

“Of course!” Akira’s protests fell on deaf ears.

“I’m sure you’re confident now, but your work ethic is…” Ren left his statement open. Akira did his best to ignore him and not bristle at the (in his opinion, undeserved) insinuation.

“I did plenty of schoolwork when I was in Tokyo. This won’t be any different.” 

“Sweetie, how about you do your homework before you go down?” Sato suggested.

“So you’re okay with me going to Tokyo?” Akira saw a line and grasped at it.

“As long as you keep up your academic performance and don’t get into any trouble, I can’t see any issues.” Ren’s voice held an underlying warning. _Don’t get into any trouble._ Akira nodded at his father, making sure it was clear he’d picked up the implication.

“Now, if you could go over your plans?” Ren asked. Akira obliged.

* * *

_7/15. After School_

_futababa: so when r u coming down @joker_

_Joker: Didn’t we discuss this previously?_

_futababa: yeah but i forgot_

_Joker: No, you didn’t._

_futababa: u dont know that_

_Joker: I actually do, Futaba._

_futababa: fuck u_

_Sumi: Futaba, you don’t need to be so mean_

_Sumi: At least you’ll get to see him!_

_Joker: Good luck on your gymnastics competition. Are you really going to be gone for all of summer?_

_Sumi: Unfortunately, yes_

_Sumi: :/_

_futababa: >:( _

_Joker: But seriously, why do you ask? I’m coming down on the 24th, as you well know._

_Sumi: She was asking for me, sorry, I was too awkward to ask on my own_

_Joker: … And Futaba was your solution?_

_futababa: i can be not awkward! sometimes!_

_Joker: Sounds gay._

_futababa: (ง'̀-'́)ง_

_Sumi: So you’re sure you can’t come down any earlier?_

_Joker: I wish I could, but it’s not on the table._

_futababa: (ง'̀-'́)ง at ur parents_

_Joker: It’s better than having them leaning over my shoulder all summer telling me to do my summer homework, isn’t it?_

_Joker: At least I get enough of it out of the way that I can spend more time with you guys._

* * *

_7/24. Morning_

Joker boarded the train, Morgana tucked away in his bag and both of them practically vibrating with excitement. Summer was finally here, and with few responsibilities in his way, he had a _whole month_ to spend with the Thieves. As the train began to move under his feet, he felt like he’d had his first breath of fresh air in months. Golden Week was nice, sure, but that was nothing compared to an entire month spent in the company of his friends. 

He could only hope that nothing got in the way of their time or scrambled their plans. There wasn’t any chance of that, was there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Not what you'd expect, probably!
> 
> Astute readers, people who speak Japanese, or people who looked it up will recognise the final date in this chapter. It's the first day of Persona 5 Scramble. No spoilers other than, like, back of the box spoilers for it in this fic, though, I just wanted to acknowledge it, because it was convenient.


	8. Unscrambled Thieves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big boy chapter, and we can finally get into some of the stuff I started writing this whole fic for.

_9/1. Morning_

Akira wondered, as he blearily put his Yasogami school uniform on, how it was possible for one person to be  _ so wrong _ about their summer plans.

Jails, Monarchs, a  _ very _ unexpected visit to the Metaverse - it was more of a mess than anybody expected, and… well, he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d missed the adrenaline that came with shattering Shadows, and he’d missed fighting alongside his friends. 

Unfortunately, it  _ also  _ confirmed a suspicion he had - the Metaverse wasn’t permanently gone. It could come back at any moment. While they had dealt with this variant of the Metaverse, he knew, deep inside him, that this wouldn’t be the last time he had to deal with that.

If only he knew how right he was.

* * *

_9/4. Afternoon_

Akira was half asleep, half listening to a history lecture when his phone buzzed. He ignored it.

_ Buzz _

Morgana grumbled something about how “we’re in class, guys.” 

The phone continued to buzz, unmoved by Morgana’s annoyance. Akira continued to ignore it.

_ buzz buzz buzz buzz buzzbuzzbuzzbuzzbuzz _

Akira looked at his phone, puzzled. It was going off enough to make the desk shake. He reached out towards it and - as though on cue - music started blaring.

_ “It’s not a game…” _

Joker’s gasp was sharp enough to cut as the teacher barked at him to turn it off. He knew that song. 

“Kurusu-san, this is a  _ classroom _ -” 

Joker shot out of his seat, grabbing the phone and his bag, and almost ran for the door. 

The teacher blocked his path. “What are you doing, it’s still-”

“Emergency.” Joker rushed the word out, mind racing with too many possibilities. That was the high level emergency alarm. Futaba wouldn’t touch that unless something serious went down. What-

“What kind of emergency? This is a classroom, not a-”

“ **Get out of my way.** ” Joker growled, and the teacher, more pathetic than most Shadows, stepped back. Joker stepped out the door and ran.

* * *

The moment he was far enough away from others, he turned on his phone - silencing the song - and scrolled through his recent messages.

_ futababa: GUYS _

_ futababa: GUYS _

_ futababa: HOLY FUCK IS ANYBODY ELSE HERE _

_ Makoto: What is it? Aren’t you supposed to be in class? _

_ futababa: CHECK YOUR PHONE RIGHT NOW _

_ Makoto: For what…? _

_ futababa: IF IT THERE ULL KWNOW _

_ Makoto: … _

_ Makoto: What the fuck _

_ Makoto: Futaba, sound the alarm _

_ Makoto: This is an emergency _

On her phone…? Joker looked at the screen for a moment, processing, before dread hit him like a truck. Slowly, he scrolled down his phone.

“Joker, what is it?” Morgana piped up, equally panicked, but unable to see the phone.

Joker held the phone out to Morgana, and the red and black of the Metaverse Navigator stared back at him.

* * *

“Oracle, tell me what’s going on.” Joker’s words were strained, coming between breaths as he sprinted home.

“I don’t know! I just looked at my phone in class and it was there!”

“Have you told everybody else?”

“The alarm was universal, all of us got it. I’m not sure who-”

“Guys, what the  _ fuck? _ ” Ryuji broke into the group call.

“Is it on yours too?” Ann’s voice came, distant. It sounded like she was with Ryuji rather than in the call herself.

“Everybody who we’ve heard from has it.” Makoto’s voice was the most composed, but to call it calm would be a falsehood at best. “Haru is currently en route to my location. What’s our plan?”

“I don’t know! I tested it, just to make sure it wasn’t a glitch, and I went to Mementos!” At Futaba’s cry, Joker doubled his pace.

Akira could hear Ryuji seething even over the phone. “Shit… We just got done with all that other business, and now this bullshit?”

“I’ll try and figure out where everybody else is.” Ann went silent, her only sound the tapping of nails on her phone.

“Joker, you’re the farthest from us. Can you get into Mementos from where you are?” Makoto’s voice broke through Akira’s panic, and he slowed down - not quite coming to a stop, but no longer at a breakneck pace.

“I don’t think it’ll work,” Morgana commented, “but we should try.”

“Alright. Guys, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Get your thief gear. We’ll need it,” Akira instructed, switching tracks to an out-of-the-way alleyway.

He left the call and, fumbling only slightly, switched to the MetaNav.

“Mementos.”

_ “Beginning Navigation.” _

* * *

Joker stood, staring awestruck at the dark, rolling plains around him. Vast, empty grass under a dark sky; a few small, ramshackle buildings, distant and disconnected. Nothing.

“What…?”

Mona ran out into the field and crouched low to the ground with a cautionary glance. Diego’s silhouette flared to life as he placed his paw down, but it soon faded and he ran back.

“I’ve never been to Mementos outside the city,“ Morgana explained. “There are Shadows underground, but they aren’t what we’re looking for, and I don’t think we even have a way down to them.”

“So we need to get to Tokyo?” Joker cursed under his breath, looking around at the barren wasteland. He could hear water running, but he couldn’t see any rivers nearby. Strange. It made sense, though - what do you expect from the middle of nowhere in the realm of cognition? 

“Yeah. Though…” Morgana hummed, Diego appearing again. “I can feel something. It’s not quite the normal Mementos, but it’s similar.” Morgana waved his paw, dispelling Diego. “I don’t think it’s important right now, though.”

Joker nodded, adjusting his gloves. “Alright. Let’s get outta here, Mona.”

* * *

“Oracle, when’s the next train from Inaba to Tokyo?” Makoto spoke with measured steadiness, level-headed even now.

“There’s a train leaving in… 42 minutes and 31 seconds. Joker, can you make it?” 

“Absolutely.” 

* * *

Akira swore when he saw the car in the driveway. The one day his parents didn’t go into the office… Well, no getting around it. 36 minutes to be in, out, to the station and on the train. He rushed inside, slamming the door open and damning any chance he might have had at stealth.

“Akira!” Sato exclaimed, visibly shocked at his entrance. “What are you doing home?! School doesn’t end for-” 

“Emergency. I’m going back to Tokyo.” 

Just like that, he was off to his room. Sato followed behind, lecturing.

“You were just in Tokyo! You’re supposed to be at school, what’s going on?” Akira ignored her, packing his bag full of thief utilities. 32 minutes. “Akira, talk to me!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t explain right now. I need to go.” Akira turned to leave, but found his way blocked - again - by his mother.

“What’s wrong? Why are you just running off to Tokyo? You’ll get in trouble from your school, and-” Morgana hissed at Sato, and she stopped instantly, visibly taken aback.

30 minutes. “I’m sorry.” He needed to… He didn’t have time. “I need to go.” 

* * *

Futaba burst through the front door of Leblanc, giving Sojiro approximately fifteen heart attacks in the span of two seconds as she crashed inside.

“Futaba? Aren’t you supposed to be-” Futaba silenced him by holding up her phone.

“Sojiro, it’s back!” 

Sojiro hadn’t seen his daughter so distressed in… a long time. It had to be serious. “What’s back? What’s wrong, Futaba?”

“The Metaverse!”

Sojiro looked between Futaba and her phone for a moment. He walked over to the door and flipped the sign to ‘closed’.

“What can I do to help?”

* * *

_9/4. Evening_

Akira threw open Leblanc’s door and tossed his bag on the table before noticing the Thieves scattered around the cafe. Unlike the last time he’d arrived, there was no joy - only mixed dread, fear and anxiety scattered across their faces.

“Is everybody ready?” he asked, drawing Paradise Lost and his Tyrant Pistol from their hidden compartments in his bag. A round of nods went around, and wordlessly, Joker held out his phone.

* * *

The Thieves stood around the painfully familiar subway entrance, watching their Oracle scan.

“... It’s small!” she exclaimed, finally, after double and triple checking her readings.

“What do you mean?” Joker asked.

“What I said! Mementos is small! It’s only two layers deep this time!” Futaba pumped her fist in the air, and a relieved sigh ran through the group. That would make their job a lot easier, whatever it was.

“Joker, can you see the Velvet Room?” Makoto’s query stirred Joker from exhaustion.

“I can.” Without another word, he walked over and entered.

* * *

“Hello, my Trickster,” Lavenza said, her voice as calm and measured as the last time they’d met. It could’ve been a week or ten years ago with how immutable the Velvet Room and its residents seemed.

“Why is Mementos here?” Joker got straight to the point.

“I truly do not know. My master has been reticent with information. You would be better served asking him yourself,” Lavenza answered honestly, stepping aside and allowing Joker passage to the centre of the room. He walked up to the desk, meeting Igor’s gaze.

“Welcome back, my guest, to the Velvet Room!” Igor’s voice - the proper, high-pitched and unique voice of the Velvet Room’s cryptic host - sounded out across the room, echoing in the space between cells. “This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter…”

“I know that, Igor,” Joker interrupted, “so tell me what’s going on.”

“Ah, ever so impatient, as is to be expected of a Trickster such as yourself,” Igor murmured. “It seems you have taken quite a liking to the form of this room, that it would manifest as a prison even without the impostor’s influence. Curious indeed…”

“Igor.” Joker’s tone brooked no argument, but Igor only laughed.

“Your journey is both complete and incomplete, a paradox of success. You know what you need to do to find your answers, do you not? Journey to the depths, and the truth shall come to you.” Igor continued to laugh, staring down his nose at Joker.

* * *

“I thought you said there were only two layers…” Ryuji whined, looking out at the dark passages. None of the Shadows were particularly challenging - a constellation of Decarabia and Kaiwan had been the most threatening opponents so far, and Mona’s progress had been largely unimpeded.

“I said there were two layers, not two floors!” Futaba tapped at the air in front of her, bringing up a holographic map for Ryuji. “It’s not my fault there are fifteen floors each!”

“Um…” All heads - aside from Joker at the wheel - turned to Sumire. She retreated a little, intimidated by the sudden onslaught of gazes seeking distraction from the Mementos monotony. “I know Mementos coming back is bad, but what do you expect to find down here…?” 

“Shit…” Ryuji’s mouth opened in realisation. “You didn’t fight Yaldabaoth!”

“Yaldabaoth?” Sumire’s innocent gaze was touched with concern as the Thieves collectively sighed.

“Yeah, we killed God.” Futaba’s explanation served to only further confuse her girlfriend, who looked around for further detail.

“Do you remember Christmas Eve?” Makoto asked gently. Sumire nodded. 

“What about the blood rain and the freakin’ bones sticking out of the ground?” Ryuji interjected, earning another - much smaller - nod.

“I know you all did something that day, but I wasn’t sure what was going on, and I wasn’t anywhere near where all the action was happening…” She explained, downcast. 

Makoto placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. Having to incorporate you into our ranks would probably have presented difficulties for us. Regardless, however…” Makoto paused, figuring out how to easily explain the situation.

“The being we fought that day was Yaldabaoth, the God of Control. He was created from humanity’s desire to be ruled and guided, and he wanted to make a world where none of us had free will.” Haru’s voice was soft, but firm, and Sumire’s eyes grew wide.

“I shot him in the head, and we thought he was dead,” Joker commented over his shoulder, “but if Mementos is back, he’s probably back too. We’ll just have to kill him again.” 

Sumire could only nod her head.

* * *

_ 9/4. ????? _

The Phantom Thieves gathered around the towering, enormous red and black door. Red energy pulsed in the walls around them, leaving the uncanny feeling of being inside a living being. With every beat, power emanated from behind the door - a steady, endless heartbeat.

They didn't need to be reminded of what waited beyond.

“Oracle, will we be trapped this time?” Joker asked, placing a hand on the door.

“... I don’t think so!” All eyes turned to Futaba, a spread of surprise and confusion. The goggled girl swiped between screens. “This place doesn’t feel as prepared as last time, so I don’t think he had time to build those kinds of defenses. ‘Sides, there’s barely any Shadows in there, as far as I can tell. It’s just a straight shot to the boss!”

Akira breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t been looking forward to figuring out a way to escape from the depths of Mementos through an impenetrable wall.

“Alright, team, we know what to do. Violet, did you follow Oracle’s debrief on what happened last time?”

Sumire gave him a thumbs up.

“Of course she did, I’m the best at explaining things!” 

“Well, in that case… It’s showtime.”

* * *

The paths were desolate, lone Shadows scattered about like signposts. When approached for conversation, they just stared with empty eyes, mouths sealed shut. Any guards were easily dispatched - the Thieves were exceptionally powerful, and most opponents were torn apart in mere moments in a flurry of magic.

All in all, the Thieves were slowly regaining some degree of confidence as they walked up to the doors of the shrine where they had first found the Holy Grail.

“Doesn’t it look… worse than last time?” Ryuji was the first to voice the thought, but Joker had seen it too. The shrine looked almost pathetic, crumbling and torn apart, a mockery of the original.

“I told you, there wasn’t time to rebuild everything!” Futaba chimed in cheerfully. “We didn’t even have to solve any puzzles!” 

Joker walked in, silently switching to Fafnir as he walked. Futaba assured them that there weren’t any traps, but he wasn’t going to get caught off guard. The only things that could hurt him with Fafnir up were Almighty attacks, and those were far too difficult (and predictable) for most Shadows to conjure up for an ambush. 

The Thieves rappelled down the large steps towards the base of the shrine in silence. Something was off - they all noticed, judging from the looks the Thieves were all sneaking - but nobody mentioned it. Finally, they reached the bottom, and they stared at the plinth.

“Dude… Where’s the cup?”

It was just as Ryuji said; where the Holy Grail once stood was  _ nothing _ . No giant hands, no goblet covered in mechanics and stylings… Only a large, empty plinth with a slight rise in the centre.

“Stay on alert, guys, I can feel his power somewhere,” Futaba warned, floating behind them in Al Azif.

“What is that object in the middle of the room?” Yusuke asked. Everybody paused, glancing towards the centre.

“Is that an object?” Joker asked. It looked like some kind of dais on first inspection, but as they stepped closer, he could tell that it was disconnected from the ground below it. It was around the size of a watermelon, with… handles?

**_“YOU.”_ **

A familiar voice roared, and the Phantom Thieves jumped. Personae manifested in the air behind their wielders, looking around for the threat - the voice which haunted their nightmares.

“Get out here, Yaldabaoth!” Ann yelled, readying her whip. “We’re ready for you!”

**_“I am already visible, you ignorant fools. Can you not see that which is plain to see?”_ ** Something about the voice struck Joker as odd. It sounded… small, almost  _ weak _ compared to Christmas Eve. The realisation struck him like a bullet.

“You’re tiny!” 

**_"Silence,"_ ** Yaldabaoth commanded. Akira burst out in laughter, and ran towards the watermelon-like object with glee. Now that he was closer, he could tell.

He stared at the miniscule Holy Grail, accompanied by hands in minutiae, and continued to laugh, sinking to the floor with an elation he hadn’t felt in months. It was irresponsible - he could  _ feel _ the power coming from the cup, even as small as it was - but he couldn’t help it. He could kick this over with  _ minimal  _ force.

“Woah, talk about a serious nerf!”

“Seeing its paltry size, it seems hard to believe how deep our concerns were.”

“Is this really our enemy?”

**_“ENOUGH."_ ** A wave of energy erupted out of the cup, which bounced off Akira’s prone form and slammed into the cup, knocking it over. One of the hands quickly shifted, picking the cup up and righting it.

“Alright, alright…” Akira stifled his laughter and climbed to his feet. The rest of the Thieves gathered behind him. “What’s your deal? Why are you back?” 

Yaldabaoth growled, but said nothing, instead releasing another blast of magic. Yet again, the moment it touched Akira, it was repelled, blasting back at twice the strength. He couldn’t even decide if Fafnir was  _ necessary  _ for this. It seemed like overkill.

“So you’re not-” Akira began, watching in amusement as a blast of lightning arced off his body into the ground nearby, “going to talk to us?” Yaldabaoth responded with a rush of radiation, which Akira and Makoto both stepped forward for, taking the nuclear energy in with ease.

**_"_ ** **_How…?”_ ** Yaldabaoth asked, frustrated. 

“Turns out fusion gets a lot easier when I can give Queen and Oracle time with Igor to plan things out.” Akira smirked, the metallic form of Fafnir manifesting above him. The dragon roared, landing on the ground in front of the Thieves with a rasp of steel. “I’m more powerful than you ever thought possible.”

Yaldabaoth was silent.

“So tell us why you’re back,” Futaba yelled, “or we’ll beat you to a pulp!” 

**_“Your powers are impressive, but you are not invincible,”_ ** the god spat, a beam of light lancing out from one of his (tiny) palms. Joker dove to the side easily, the pale white beam piercing through the wall of the shrine behind them.

“Too predictable!” Futaba taunted. 

**_“Your pride shall come before your fall, mortals."_ **

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, little guy.” Ryuji’s voice dripped with both sarcasm and glee. The cup turned, green sparkles coalescing into a powerful wave that stormed towards Ryuji. Morgana took a step, and Diego took the wind unflinchingly.

**_“Bah. Even might such as yours cannot stand up to death itself.”_ **

Akira looked at the cup, which looked to be stepping…? - as much as a cup could step, at least - backwards. What did that mean?

“Joker, behind you!” Futaba cried out.

Joker felt a presence behind him. On reflex, he sprung into the air, landing on the Shadow’s shoulders. He searched for a mask, but found himself grappling with what felt like a cloth sack. Something glinted in the corner of his eye and he followed it to a faint light glinting off of thin metal sticks. They almost looked like...

As the realization hit him, Joker leapt off the Reaper’s back, hitting the ground with a roll. The monstrous form turned slowly, a horrific rattle of chains accompanying its every movement. How had it snuck up on them?

**_“I would hesitate to call upon a force I cannot control were I at full power, but He shall strike you down in my place,”_ ** Yaldabaoth called, almost smug. Joker understood immediately. Yaldabaoth was cheating.

The Reaper moaned, its single eye rolling around in its socket to gaze at the Thieves gathered around it. Where once the Thieves would have cowered and ran, though, they all stood proud, Personae behind them.

“You missed out on a lot while you were dead, Yaldabaoth,” Joker murmured. He grinned a manic grin as he stepped back, waving to the Thieves. “Everybody, battle positions!”

The Thieves quickly encircled the Reaper, staying carefully out of clubbing distance. They knew from experience that - in addition to shooting them - the Reaper could shatter bones with a single strike, and its weapons were indestructible. 

“Mona, Queen, Panther, you’re on support duty. Sneak in attacks if you can but make sure none of us go down for too long. Skull, Noir, Fox, focus on hitting it hard. Violet, Cro- …” Joker paused, feeling a void. The last time they’d faced the Reaper… “Violet and I will try and keep its attention. Oracle, Fox, keep up our buffs.”

A cheer went out from the Thieves as they settled into familiar roles. Joker charged at the Reaper, feeling heat rising within him as a full range of buffs settled below his skin. He leaped into the air, firing shot after shot into the Reaper’s cloak, watching in glee as globules of power seeped out of its cloak. The Reaper didn’t stand a chance.

* * *

“Violet, draw aggro! I think Joker can finish this off!” The battle was grueling, but the Thieves never gave an inch. Futaba poured her energy into Joker, boosting him with all the power Al Azif had to give. The Reaper was flagging, its once quick movements sluggish, shots going wide and magic barely scratching its targets. 

Sumire rushed at the creature with wild abandon. Too exhausted to realise the trap, it tried to bat at the lithe gymnast like a fly, who dived and rolled past the guns. She could tell that - even in the Reaper’s current state - so much as a glancing blow would shatter her. However, she didn’t plan on getting hit.

She leaped into the air, pulling her mask off as she flew. “ _ Masquerade! _ ” Swords tore into the Reaper, exploding with blinding light that forced the Reaper to the ground. Sumire looked over the Reaper’s shoulder, watching Joker rip off his mask to call forth Satanael. That was her cue to run.

The air behind Joker seemed to billow and tear as Satanael’s dark wings cast shadows across the battlefield. He wasn’t as large as he had once been, but even now, Satanael towered over everything in the room. The Reaper looked like a pea compared to the might of the fallen angel, and Joker was  _ ready. _

_ He raised his hand, and hurled his knife into the Reaper’s head. It stuck, almost like a lightning rod. He grinned. _

“ _ Black Viper!” Joker roared, channeling his concentrated energy directly into his Persona. Satanael pointed his gun at the foe, aiming directly for the knife, and pulled the trigger. _

The walls shuddered and crumbled as the ground around the Reaper tore, an impregnable void swelling up from below the earth. From the shadows emerged a gaping maw, sharp and jagged teeth shining impossibly white against the red hue of Mementos, and the Reaper stared out like a frail mouse. There was a pause as the viper held the creature in its mouth like a bundle of rags - and it snapped shut. There was a sickening  _ crunch _ of flesh, bones and cloth, before a muffled detonation reverberated around the room. 

Slowly, the serpent receded back into the ground, until the only sign of combat was a knife that glimmered with power.

* * *

_9/4. ???????_

**_“How…? You felled the twice-fallen king of flame as if He were but a simple trifle. Your powers have grown beyond any predictions…”_ ** Yaldabaoth muttered as the Thieves approached him again.

“Ooh, is this Reaper lore?” Futaba asked. “Gimme!”

**_“You need not know the past of He you felled, only that His is an existence in perpetuity through hatred and insanity alone. He shall come again, and again, and with every loss His hatred will grow-”_ **

Futaba cut the simpering god off with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, he’ll come back, we know that. We grinded him plenty after you died!”

“We didn’t ‘grind’ him, Oracle…” Makoto murmured.

“We totally did! Two kills on the superboss is totally grinding!” Al Azif zoomed around and tried to bat Makoto on the head - an incredibly unwieldy task for a spaceship - which Makoto loudly protested. Ignoring their play, Joker turned to the cup.

“You’re done. Not even your Reaper could challenge us. So, why are you back?” 

The cup said nothing. Akira wondered, silently, if a cup could pout.

“That was an excellent showing, all of you!” An unexpected voice broke the standstill, and the Thieves turned as one to watch an old man accompanied by a young girl in blue make their way over.

“Igor?” Akira was baffled, to put it lightly, to see Igor out of the Velvet Room. 

“Yes!” Igor was a long and spindly figure even despite the perpetual hunch of his shoulders. Something about his proportions were unnatural, and Akira didn’t need to look to know Yusuke was already hard at work sketching their visitor.

“What are you…?” Akira began, but a much louder voice cut him off.

**_“What are you doing here? You are not to interfere with events.”_ **

“I am simply taking this opportunity to return a favour,” Igor stated to the fuming cup. “If you show the rules to be flexible, I will bend them in return.”

“My Master and I are only here to grant knowledge which you refuse to give, Yaldabaoth.” Lavenza’s cold voice was almost as threatening as the chainsaw she wielded.

**_“I see your memory of your separation has not decayed, girls,"_ ** Yaldabaoth taunted. Lavenza stepped towards the cup, chainsaw beginning to whir, but Igor held her back.

“The God of Control has returned,” Igor stated, turning to the Thieves, “but he is weak. Humanity remains imperfect, incapable of warding off their distorted desires, and so they call back their God.”

“So, what, do we need to kill him again? Fine by me!” Ryuji hefted his weapon and tapped it against his hand. 

Ann elbowed him.

“Indeed, you shall have to destroy him once more,” Igor laughed in return, earning an “Eff yeah!” from Ryuji. Igor waved his hand and went on. “However, he shall return within a few waxes and wanes of the moon, as humanity once again grows away from their rebellion.”

“To put it simply…” Lavenza murmured, curtsying to Igor before stepping forward and taking the stage. “For as long as humanity longs for rulership, their God shall return.”

“So what do we do about it?” Haru asked quietly, looking to the centre of the shrine.

“You destroy it,” Lavenza stated. “You destroy the God of Control every time it comes back, for as long as is necessary.”

“How… often is this going to happen?” Makoto asked warily.

“A few waxes and wanes of the moon, right? Every couple of months!” Futaba interjected. Makoto nodded, a little embarrassed.

“Indeed. As long as you return frequently, he shall never gather the strength to challenge you.”

**_“Fools, all of you. I shall outlast you. I am a God, and you are but mortals.”_ **

“Oh, shut up, cup,” Ann snapped. “We’ll get rid of you for as long as we need to!”

“Yeah,” Joker agreed. “We’ll stop you even if it takes the rest of our lives to do so.”

“Hell yeah we will!”

“I will never surrender to the likes of you!”

“A world without free will is a world bereft of beauty, and I cannot stand for your tyranny.”

“We won’t let you take our lives away from us!”

“My life is mine to live!”

“This world is ours to protect!”

“We won’t let you crush us beneath your heel!”

The cries of the Phantom Thieves rang out strong, and Igor’s smile only grew.

“So, what do we need to do?” Akira asked the pair of the Velvet Room. “Come back every month or two? Will we know when the Metaverse Navigator comes back?”

**_“Why did you acquire that app? I did not distribute it to any of you. Was it that meddling fool’s intrusion once more?”_ ** Yaldabaoth’s voice was tired.

“To assist you all in your paths towards the future, I have decided to take possession of the Metaverse Navigator,” Igor explained. “While this portion of Mementos will collapse with every defeat of the God of Control, there exist areas beyond this which you have the ability to access.”

“Man, does that mean the Phantom Thieves are back in business?” Ryuji's smile was a mile wide.

“Indeed.” A cheer went up, and enthusiastic high-fives followed. “However...” The cheering stopped immediately. 

“You can no longer operate with impunity, Trickster,” Lavenza murmured, flipping through her Compendium as she spoke. “The rules of the game are in effect only in name alone, and we can offer naught but minimal guidance on your path ahead. The path ahead is obscured, and the role of the Fool is ready to be passed.”

“What does that change?” Akira asked. A part of him clutched at his Personae, fearful.

“For you? Nothing,” Lavenza answered. “But for us, it is worrying indeed. My Master can see, to some degree, how the timeline of events stretches out before ones such as yourself, but he cannot make such predictions for you any more. I can only guide as I see, with no predestination behind my words.”

Akira chuckled. “Is that all? I thought it was going to be something bad.”

Lavenza looked up, snapping the Compendium shut in surprise. “What do you mean, Trickster?”

“If we wanted the future to be predicted, we would’ve accepted the cup’s offer.” Akira jerked his thumb over to Yaldabaoth. “As long as we can help people, we don’t mind whether you can lead us or not.”

Lavenza paused for a moment, but a small smile returned to her face. “Thank you, my Trickster.”

“So, with all that out of the way…” Joker stretched, pulled his pistol out, and pointed it towards the centre of the room. “How about we kill a God?”

* * *

_ 9/5. Early Morning _

Akira coughed on the ground, spitting out the remnants of dust and stones. Killing a god? Easy. Realising too late that Mementos was going to collapse, and having to rush to get out? Less easy. He looked around at the team - all in similar states of disarray - and then to his phone. True to Igor’s word, the Meta-Nav was still there, but with a new deep blue outline. 

“Is everybody okay?” Akira asked, climbing to his feet and brushing himself off. 

“I think I swallowed a rock…” Futaba whined. Akira walked over and helped her up, picking a few pebbles out of her hair.

“Let’s get back to Leblanc, everybody.”

* * *

Sojiro nearly fell out of his chair when the group barged into Leblanc, their boisterous chattering waking him from his half-doze. 

“You’re all okay!”

“Of course we are!” Futaba retorted. “It’s past your bedtime!”

“I don’t have a bedtime, Futaba. I’m a grown man.”

“Yes you do! You always go to bed before 11:29pm unless you’re specifically busy with something else!” 

“Why do you… Never mind,” Sojiro sighed, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t have a bedtime the last time he’d checked, but he couldn’t say she was wrong. He needed his beauty sleep. “What happened? Is everything okay now?”

“Hell yeah it is!”

“Are we finally done with all this Phantom Thief business?” Sojiro asked, hopeful.

“Actually, we’re back to it!” Shit.

* * *

“You did  _ what _ now?” 

“Killed God!” 

“Futaba, you really need to stop saying that…”

“But Mako-chan, it’s cute!”

“You’re not helping either, Haru.”

* * *

_9/5. Afternoon_

Akira woke with a start. He tried to sit up, but the cuddly forms of about four people - and a cat - kept him on the ground. He had a horrible feeling that he forgot something.

He scrabbled for his phone, which was thankfully within arm’s reach, and carefully shifted to see the phone.

… That was a lot of missed messages.

… That was a lot of missed messages  _ from his parents _ .

Fuck.

* * *

“What do I do?”

It was a simple question, but nobody could figure out how to answer. The group threw out suggestion after suggestion - but each one was soon shot down, often by the person who suggested it. Honesty wasn't on the table - in fact, it was so far  _ off _ the table that no one had even suggested it. Akira's parents treated him like a criminal when he didn't assault a man; there was no way they would accept an honest-to-god Phantom Thief. On top of that, they were fresh out of believable, justifiable lies that would make a teenager run to Tokyo in the middle of a school day.

“Maybe there was a sudden fish attack, and only somebody who caught the Guardian could challenge them.” Ryuji’s latest suggestion was - somehow - not the most out-there suggestion so far. 

“You could tell them I broke my leg and needed help?” Ann’s offer was nice and all, but…

“Why wouldn’t somebody in Tokyo help you?”

“Oh…” Her face fell.

“You can just stay here forever. Never go home!” Futaba chimed in, playing with her hair. 

“While I would love to stay with you and Sojiro…” Akira trailed off.

“That’s it!” Makoto shot up like a rocket.

“Do you have an idea?” 

“Boss!” Makoto clapped, rushing over to the table. “He’s our ticket out!”

“What, is he gonna give them a cup of brainwash coffee?” Ryuji was not following, and to be honest, Akira wasn’t either.

“Akira, you’re still friends with that doctor, right?” Makoto ignored the question, possessed by a manic energy.

“I am.”

“Boss collapsed.”

“I did what now?” Sojiro exclaimed, coming up the stairs with snacks.

“You’re so smart, Mako-chan!”

* * *

“This’ll cost you, y’know,” Takemi murmured, voice dry. The Takemi Medical Clinic hadn’t changed much, and if not for some shiny new equipment, Akira wouldn’t have been able to tell any time had passed since his first clinical trial.

“How much?” Sojiro asked, warily.

“Two hundred thousand yen, and a pint of your blood.”

“Huh?”

* * *

“That woman…” Sojiro groaned, clutching a set of falsified documents indicating his ‘poor health’ and sudden collapse due to ‘underlying conditions’. “If you didn’t vouch for her, I wouldn’t let her poke and prod at me.”

Akira just laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “At least we know you’re not actually going to collapse on us!”

“If I have to deal with her again, I just might.”

* * *

“So, let’s go over this again.” Makoto caught Akira’s attention, and counted off on her fingers. “You have a reason to rush to Tokyo, evidence in case they want to look into it more, corroborative testimony…”

“D’ya have a reason why he had to get to Tokyo _ immediately _ ?” Ryuji asked.

“Because none of you were around and I was too scared to help him!” Futaba explained.

“Is that really gonna work?” Morgana was curled up on the table, but looked more worried than comfortable.

“It should be fine,” Yusuke said. “I doubt his parents have a particularly prolific understanding of where we are all located. Given that most of us are not currently residing in Tokyo, it would be far from a stretch to tell them that none of us were available.”

“Good luck, Senpai!”

* * *

_9/6. Afternoon_

Akira was back in Inaba and ready for action. He had his explanation prepared, Sojiro had agreed to close up shop for a few days to make it seem more believable, and everything was perfect. 

With pep in his step, Akira walked through his front door.

* * *

“Where have you  _ been? _ ” Sato was furious, and Ren wasn’t much happier. The two stood with arms crossed, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m sorry, but I-” His carefully crafted speech was cut off in an instant by Ren.

“You’re grounded.”

“... I can explain, hold on a moment-” 

Ren stepped forward, resolute. “I don’t care what your explanation is, you’re grounded. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Are you even going to listen to me?” Akira muttered.

“Don’t talk back to your father like that! Your school called, and they said you threatened your teacher. You’re lucky you’re getting away with only being grounded.”

Threatened his teacher? That was a bit of a stretch. “I can explain, I promise! Sojiro-”

“Sojiro  _ what? _ ” 

“He collapsed, and I needed to help Futaba.” Easy and believable. Even if it wasn’t going according to plan…

“Is he dead?” Sato snapped.

“No, but we needed to take him to a doctor, and-” 

“The Sakura girl should have been able to do that on her own.” 

“Well, she can’t, so I needed to help her,” Akira crossed his arms to match his parents, staring them down. 

“She can’t just call you up any time she has a little problem, especially when you didn’t even explain why you’re leaving!” 

“Her father was-”

Ren cut him off, hand viciously slicing at the air. “I don’t care what happened, you are **_not_** to go around threatening teachers or running away from school.”

“I didn’t even threaten him,” Akira replied, struggling to keep his tone steady. Why weren’t they  _ listening  _ to him? 

“Sure, whatever you say.” Sato hissed, voice positively caustic. “That doesn’t change the fact that you left - in the  _ middle of class _ \- to run off to Tokyo with absolutely no warning, and you didn’t respond to any of our messages for a full  _ day _ !”

“I was busy,” Akira protested, “and I’m sorry!” 

“This is just like you,” Sato growled, turning her back and walking away. “Always leaving us to clean up your mess while you gallivant about doing  _ whatever _ you like.”

“Your school kept calling us, trying to figure out what was wrong with you,” Ren explained. “Do you know how hard it is to tell them that you ran off without telling us a damn thing? They were about to call the police!”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself!” That was a weak protest and Akira knew it, but his patience was running dry.

“You clearly aren’t.” Ren chewed at his words and spat them out. “Your actions are immature and you aren’t even stopping to consider how they affect your mother and I. We raised you to be responsible, not to act like  _ this. _ ”

Akira had no clue what Ren was on about. “I went to help Futaba…” he explained slowly, almost as if talking to a toddler, “because Sojiro collapsed and nobody was around to help her. He could have been dying, so I stepped in to help.” That was reasonable. Why was his father… “Hey, come back!” 

“Go to your room,” Ren ordered, already walking off. 

* * *

_ Joker: They didn’t even listen to me. _

_ Makoto: What did they think of your explanation? _

_ Joker: They barely even responded to it.  _

_ Joker: It was like they couldn’t even hear me. _

_ futababa: did they say it was a bad reason or did they just not care _

_ Joker: They didn’t care. I could’ve told them you set Tokyo Tower on fire and I don’t think they would’ve batted an eye. _

_ futababa: maybe i shd do that anyway to see if that’s true _

_ Makoto: Do not set Tokyo Tower on fire, Futaba. _

_ ann: if anybody is setting things on fire its me _

_ ryuryu: so ur telling me we figured all that shit out for nothin? for real? _

_ Haru: Maybe they just need time to process it?  _

_ Joker: I’ll see how they feel about it tomorrow.  _

_ Joker: Unrelated note, but where’s Yusuke? _

_ futababa: inari where r u _

_ futababa: inari _

_ futababa: inariiiii _

_ Yusuke: Hm? What is the matter? _

_ futababa: who the fuckle told you u could change ur nickname _

_ Yusuke: I was simply perusing the options menu in a moment of boredom when I happened across the ‘Change Nickname’ button.  _

_ Yusuke: But my apologies for my absence. I have been painting, as our recent escapades struck inspiration into me like a bolt of lightning. _

_ Joker: I’m glad to hear that, Yusuke. _

* * *

_ 9/7. Morning _

Akira stumbled over to the coffee machine half-asleep, Morgana trailing along behind him. The past few days had been a lot for the both of them. When Akira’s hand met the countertop, he noticed three things in quick succession.

One: The house was quiet. That was not too out of the ordinary, but normally he would have heard the faint sounds of somebody getting dressed by this time. 

Two: All of his good mugs were gone. The only ones sitting by the coffee machine were tiny cups more suitable for a child’s tea party than an actual drink.

Three: His coffee grinder was missing.

Akira scanned the counter. Either he needed glasses, or the coffee grinder wasn’t there. Where had it gone…?

He  _ focused. _ Nothing. His Third Eye only settled on the coffee machine. Where could it… blue caught his attention, and he followed it unthinkingly.

He had no idea what he was supposed to be looking at. Why was the driveway lit up? There was nothing there.

It wasn’t until he was in class that he realised that the driveway was  _ supposed _ to be occupied.

* * *

_9/7. Evening_

Were his parents really so passive-aggressive that they left for work early  _ and _ they took the coffee grinder with them? Akira hadn’t believed it at first, but as the hours passed by, with no sign of parents or grinders, it seemed more and more like the only possibility.

* * *

_9/7. Late Night_

“I’m glad to see everybody could make it tonight.” Mitsuru nodded around the room amiably.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Yukari - or, no, she was Takeba right now, they were being ‘professional’ - laughed, stretching in her seat. 

“Indeed.” Mitsuru chucked with her, but quickly shook herself back to the distinguished woman Takeba knew and loved- Focus, Yukari. 

“Now…” the quietest member of the table spoke up, oblivious to Yukari’s drifting thoughts. “Should we go over information already discussed in less official capacity? It seems important to properly ensure all parties are operating with the same base of knowledge.”

“Thank you, Shirogane. Are there any volunteers?”

“I can get through my stuff pretty quickly, I think,” Yukari -  _ Takeba _ \- offered. Mitsuru nodded at her, giving permission, and she continued. “Nothing I’ve heard from Takamaki-san has contradicted any of our other information. She’s told me on numerous occasions about her close relationships with the rest of the suspected Phantom Thieves, and I even managed to meet Kurusu himself a while ago. He seemed nice enough, but his focus was on Takamaki, so I couldn’t get all too much out of him.” Yukari sat back in her seat, taking a deep breath. She probably should’ve rehearsed her lines or something. 

“Thank you, Takeba. Now, what about you, Sanada?” Mitsuru waved to the next person in the table’s rotation.

“Oh, right.” Akihiko was impressively off-guard by the question, probably assuming Mitsuru would ask for volunteers again. “I’ve only attended a few of Satonaka’s training sessions, but we can not only confirm that Okumura and Niijima are exceptionally close, but that they were entirely absent during the latest Phantom Thief activities. They also reportedly came back with some ‘nasty’ scars somewhat recently that neither properly explained.” 

Mitsuru scribbled something down in a notebook before pointing with her pen at the next person in line. “Yamagishi, anything to report?”

Yamagishi sighed. “Not particularly. Although Futaba-chan has been wonderful to speak to, she is quite guarded about most of her offline activities. I would consider her a friend by this point, but the only thing I have to contribute is that she was incredibly difficult to reach for any extended period of time over the recent summer period. She seemed to be travelling, judging from a few pictures I received.” Fuuka - no, Yamagishi, for the sake of - looked almost apologetic, but Mitsuru just took the information in stride.

“Thank you for your efforts. Now, Shirogane? I believe you have quite a bit of information for us.”

Shirogane cleared her throat, flipping through documents. “I have numerous reports from the Investigation Team, as well as personal observations. Do you have any preferences as to the order in which I should address them?”

“None at all.”

“Thank you.” Shirogane pulled out yet another folder, placing it on top of the steadily growing pile of paper. “To begin with, multiple reports indicate that Kurusu is currently pursuing a romantic relationship with five other individuals.” Yukari couldn’t help but let out a whistle. It sounded like a lot more when Shirogane said it. She was just so serious. “Of course, all of these individuals are linked in some form to the Phantom Thieves, making it likely that all are involved in their activities. Rise-chan, in particular, can vouch for how well Kurusu knows them all.”

Mitsuru took a few more notes, giving Shirogane a chance to read over a few papers before she continued. “Furthermore, Kanji-kun stated that while assisting Kurusu in ‘gift preparation’, he noticed several of the gifts were in some form abnormal. A sheath for an axe and a plush figure specifically requested to have a whip are the most notable of the selections, indicating that two among the Phantom Thieves may have preferences for those as weaponry. Other details among the gifts, the plush figure previously mentioned in particular, have tenuous links between the minimal footage we have of the Thieves.”

The table was silent, utterly rapt by the information Shirogane delivered. She took a drink of water, but continued. “Teddie has continued to impress upon us all that Kurusu’s cat - who is allegedly named Morgana - can speak. His words, while being regular meows to myself and Yosuke-kun, are apparently entirely regular speech to Teddie, likely because of his origins. He also said that the two are likely suspicious of him, for an unknown reason, as they have - on numerous occasions - attempted to…” 

Shirogane trailed off, peering at a word in the paper she was working from. She muttered to herself, scribbling something out, but continued her sentence as if nothing had happened. “... Trap Teddie into revealing that he understood Morgana’s words. However, he also states that such attempts have pawsed- ahem, paused - recently. Whether this means he has eluded their attempts or they have proof is presently unknown.”

Yukari silently passed a new bottle of water over to Shirogane, whose voice had become somewhat strained. Mitsuru didn’t say anything, but she continued taking notes.

“What about you, Mitsuru?” Yukari asked, snapping her fingers to grab her attention. “You’ve been interrogating Sae Niijima, right?”

“You’ve been quiet about that,” Akihiko noted. “Is it going poorly?”

Mitsuru hummed for a moment, lost in thought. “I have interviewed Niijima, yes, on multiple occasions. She has been exceptionally reticent with any information regarding the Thieves, and has been shockingly adept at evading my attempts at gathering information.” Yukari couldn’t help but notice Mitsuru sounded… impressed? That was rare. “While we have had dinner together numerous times, all I have managed to get out of her is that all of the Thieves seem to have some personal connection with Kurusu, and that she refuses to deny her correspondence with them.”

“You’ve gone to dinner with her?” Yukari asked, a teasing lilt in her voice. 

“Indeed. I believed it the easiest way to get information out of her.” Mitsuru raised her eyebrows at Yukari. “Is there some problem with that, Takeba?”

“None at all!” Yukari couldn’t tell if Mitsuru had picked up on the implication or not, but she wasn’t going to press the issue.

“If nobody has anything else to contribute, I only have one further point to discuss before we can end this meeting.” Mitsuru looked around meaningfully, fixing each person at the table with individual gazes. None responded. “Has there been any information about Goro Akechi?”

“Almost nothing,” Shirogane answered ruefully. “While it seems impossible for him to not have been deeply involved with the Phantom Thieves in some capacity, he has seemingly disappeared. There are a few reports of varying quality from January and February which potentially indicate he was active during those times - for whatever reason - but March onwards, we have heard almost nothing. The only exception to this is June, in which a drunk man burst into the Inaba police statement shouting about how he had ‘seen the Detective Prince.’ He was not lucid enough, however, to establish when, how, why, or even whether it had been myself or Akechi that he had seen. Unfortunately, I was in the area at the time. Further questioning revealed that the man had no recollection of the incident.”

“Thank you, Shirogane.” Mitsuru murmured, a little disappointed. “I’m sure you all know how to proceed from here on out, correct?” A chorus of agreement went around the table, and Mitsuru smiled. “I actually have plans tomorrow, so we’ll need to end this here. Thank you, everybody.”

* * *

_9/8. Afternoon_

Yusuke stood in the gallery, a silent purveyor of the wonders of the artistic realm, gazing upon the works scattered about like remnants of the soul arranged. Among the fragments was his latest piece - a horrific work that was one of his greatest compositions to date.

Examining the piece now was a woman, clad in a giant fur coat, her crimson hair a striking contrast to the shining white. Beside her, a demure lady clad in maid accoutrements held a clipboard tight against her chest.

“What do you think, Saikawa?” The woman asked her companion, coat sweeping across the floor.

Yusuke stepped forward. “Excuse me, ma’am, but your coat will dirty itself if you allow it to fall like that.”

She turned, eyes tired but flecked with intelligence.

“Are you a fan of the arts?” Her voice was quiet as she gathered up her coat, her maid quickly securing it around her waist.

“You are, in fact, looking at one of my pieces,” Yusuke replied, bowing. “If I may be so bold, may I ask your opinion on the piece?” 

“It is…” The woman paused, thoughtfully glancing between the piece and its author. “While the technique is exceptional, I would hesitate to call it beautiful.”

“Beauty was certainly not the object of the painting, but some might say there is a beauty to be found in even that which revolts. Do you not agree?” 

“I suppose.” The woman looked again at the painting. 

It was a grotesque thing. “Death’s Glare” was a figure cloaked with cloth and shadow, covered in flaming chains and armed with numerous weapons aimed at other, distant targets. The piece focused on a sickly eye that stared into and through the viewer, attempting to instill that no matter where the figure currently aimed, the viewer was still in its sight. Yusuke painted it feverishly, beset by inspiration to depict their greatest foe. He was quite proud of it.

“Milady, we have appointments to attend to.” The maid spoke up, tapping her clipboard.

“Just a moment,” the woman murmured, waving off the request. “Kitagawa, I would like to offer a sponsorship to you.” She produced a business card and handed it to Yusuke. 

Yusuke took the card and studied it. “While I appreciate such an offer from the Kirijo Group, I have no need for sponsorships. I would prefer to be unfettered by corporate obligations and free to simply paint as my heart desires.” Yusuke handed the card back.

“Understood.” The woman from the Kirijo Group walked off, leaving Yusuke alone with his painting. 

He peered at the plaque, noticing, bemusedly, that they had instead titled the painting “Death Stared”. Close enough.

* * *

_9/9. Evening_

This was getting ridiculous, honestly. 

While Joker was never one to avoid dramatics, Akira was pretty sure spending two days away from home was a  _ bit _ over-the-top. 

He considered texting them about it, but he refused to be the first to break the silence. If they wanted to leave him alone for a few days, so be it. This wasn’t the first time. He could take care of himself.

* * *

_9/10. Afternoon_

“Hey, man, are you okay?” Akira paused. Of all the questions his boss could’ve asked him in a random, entirely out-of-the-blue phone call on a day off, he hadn’t been expecting  _ that _ .

“Is something wrong, Yosuke-san?” 

“It’s just…” Yosuke went quiet. “I got a call from your parents.”

“What did they say?” Despite his best efforts, Akira could hear the trepidation in his own voice.

“A lot,” Yosuke admitted, laughing a little. “They really wanted me not to tell you any of this. So, if they ask, this conversation never happened.” Akira laughed. Yosuke had his back. “Anyway, they wanted me to fire you.”

“What? Why?”

“Not a clue,” Yosuke said. Akira could  _ hear  _ him shrug. “Something about you being unreliable and bad for the store’s image? It sounded like BS so I told them I’d think about it and hung up.” There was a brief pause before Yosuke continued, audibly hesitant. “Is everything good over there?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Akira didn’t think he was lying. Probably. “We just got into an argument. It’s nothing important.”

“You sure, man?” Yosuke did  _ not _ believe him. “Listen, I don’t want to pry, but if you ever need somewhere to stay…” 

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I really appreciate the offer, though.” 

The two exchanged pleasantries, and Akira ended the call. He slumped against his desk with a sigh. His parents were...

* * *

_ 9/11. Morning _

Frustrating. His parents were frustrating. He stared them down over their breakfast - they didn’t make anything for  _ him,  _ but, whatever. They’d returned from their apparent vacation just as abruptly as they left. If they were going to act like that, he could get his own breakfast.

“Good morning.” Terse. There was still an empty space on the counter-top, but his parents had coffee. He didn’t feel the need to sound any nicer. 

“Off to school?” Sato asked. Icy. Good to know it was mutual.

“Make sure you stay the whole day,” Ren added.

Akira walked past them and left for school.

* * *

_9/11. Evening_

“Heading out again?” Akira’s words were razor-sharp, only a step away from outright hostility.

Ren turned to face Akira’s steely gaze. “Is there a problem with that?”

“I’m just wondering, that’s all.” Akira spun a pencil between his fingers, tossing it into the air and catching it every so often. “You seem to be going out a lot recently.”

“I’m doing something nice for your mother,” Ren stated. “You should consider it yourself.”

Akira didn’t respond, so Ren went on. “After all, your mother and I have done a lot for you. We’ve fed you, housed you, taken you to camps and retreats…” 

The pencil cracked in Akira’s hand. “Have fun at dinner.” Akira walked off without another word.

* * *

_9/12. Afternoon_

_ Makoto: You really should try talking to them, Akira. _

_ Joker: They hardly acknowledge my presence. They’ve been going out to dinner every night. _

_ Haru: Have you been eating properly? _

_ Joker: Of course. _

_ Haru: Have you been eating things beside curry? _

_ Joker: I have, yes. _

_ Haru: Besides curry and tofu? _

_ Joker: … _

_ ryuryu: busted _

_ Makoto: You really should have a more diverse palate than that, but that’s besides the point. _

_ Makoto: I’m sure you can reason with them. _

_ Joker: Can we talk about something else? They’re not home right now, anyway, so it’s a moot point. _

_ Makoto: That’s fair. Apologies if I pressed you too hard. _

_ Joker: It’s fine, don’t worry. _

_ futababa: r we plannin on doing anything as p thieves now that we have the app back _

_ ryuryu: maybe we should go after akira’s parents lmao _

The chat went dead quiet for a moment, Akira just staring at his screen, a dull thud in his chest. Finally, Makoto broke the silence.

  
  


_ Makoto: I don’t believe it would be wise to start up our activities again without exceptional reason. For now, unless something pressing presents itself, we should lay low.  _

_ Makoto: We might want to find some location to train, just to keep ourselves sharp. Since Mementos is supposed to be unavailable… _

_ futababa: i was looking into it a bit more and mementos is pseudo unavailable _

_ futababa: the first layer is open and the layers below are very slowly rebuilding  _

_ futababa: i can sense god boy buried super deep down and super weak tho so we dont have to worry about him _

_ Haru: Oh, but the Shadows at the top of Mementos are so weak! _

_ Haru: We will have to make do, I suppose. _

_ futababa: phantom thieves make do _

* * *

_9/12. Evening_

Akira couldn’t stop looking at his phone. Ryuji hadn’t thought anything of it when he’d said it, but he couldn’t get it out of his mind. There was no way, right? It was impossible. It wasn’t even worth checking, really. Sure, they weren’t doing great, but it wasn’t… it’s not like…

There was no reason not to check. He’d be proven right, and he could stop worrying about it. Morgana was fast asleep curled up next to him, and he could just check and immediately go to sleep. No one would know he even checked. He could curl up with Morgana and forget it even came up.

… Regardless, Akira’s mouth was dry as he opened the Metaverse Navigator. His tongue felt too big for his mouth. His Personae were dead silent. It took his full willpower to still his trembling hands as he brought the phone to his mouth. 

“Ren and Sato Kurusu.”

_ “Candidates Found.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the original draft, Yusuke devoured the card Mitsuru gave him. Blame my editor for that not being the case.
> 
> Also, these chapters are getting a bit longer, and I'm getting busier, so as much as I would like to keep posting as regularly as I have, there's a very high chance update frequency will drop down some. Just a warning in advance.


	9. Unforeseen Consequences

_9/12. Evening_

He deleted the search.

Surely it wasn’t right. The only people who had Palaces were those who were so far gone that nothing else could help them. It was a mistake. Maybe they were in Mementos, but they couldn’t have a Palace. That had to be wrong.

He tried again.

“Ren and Sato Kurusu.”

_“Candidates Found."_

He knew the Meta-Nav couldn’t _lie,_ but it could probably be wrong. It had never been wrong before, but it could probably make mistakes. How could his parents have a _Palace?_

Maybe it was just a small Palace, something barely worth the trouble. It could be a sandcastle of a Palace, for all he knew. Something not worth mentioning.

Their targets had to be unanimous, and surely it wouldn’t be worth bothering them over something trivial like that. Even if they did have a Palace, he didn’t know _why._ If Futaba could have a Palace...

Akira dropped his phone on his face before he realised his hands were shaking, knocking his panicked thoughts out and replacing them with a single overwhelming sensation: Ow.

At the very least, the sudden knock focused him. He didn’t know what to do about this... _revelation_ , but for now, it wasn’t a big deal. A Palace was just a sign of distorted desires. Sure, he didn’t know how long they’d had the Palace for, or what their keywords were, or even how they apparently had a shared Palace - was that allowed? It happened in Mementos, sometimes, but... he wasn’t going to get anywhere worrying about it tonight. He’d observe the situation and act later. 

He felt like he should probably tell the Thieves, just in case, but he didn’t want to worry them about something that was likely to be inconsequential. Besides, Makoto would understand. She’d known about Sae’s Palace for a long time, so she couldn’t point the finger at him. It would all be fine.

Akira fell asleep tossing and turning.

* * *

_??????_

Akira pressed his hands to cold glass as he stared out at rows upon rows of cubes. The room towered above him, the ceiling so far away it seemed invisible. If it weren’t for support beams strewn about the room, he wouldn’t be convinced it was there. He couldn’t see walls, either - just rows and rows of glass cages. 

The plaques were there again. Could he read them this time? Did he want to?

Almost as though his eyes were drawn to it, Akira looked over. The display was small, hard to make out in the dim light. It looked to be a strange, simple diorama. A figure topped with black stood in front of a larger one clothed in white, ushering it into a building bursting with featureless figures.

The plaque, Akira noticed, simply read “School.” What did that mean?

Another display held a more complex diorama. The same black-topped figure dangled from monkey bars. Around it were more of the featureless figures, and in a separate building the figure clothed in white and a new figure clothed in gold stood on either side of a table. “Camp.”

Akira recoiled as light flooded the room, blinding him. Raising a hand to block it out, he looked towards the source. A figure in white pointed a spotlight at him. Something muttered, but Akira couldn’t make out the words. The light burned into him, and he wanted to hide, to escape, to-

* * *

_9/13. Early Morning_

Akira opened his eyes and immediately jumped. There was something in front of him, a face staring at him, and-

“Joker, are you okay?” The face opened its mouth and a familiar voice came out. Oh.

“Morgana?” The face nodded and disappeared. A soft form pressed against his neck.

“It seemed like you were having a nightmare, and I couldn’t wake you up. Are you okay?” 

Akira slowly propped himself up, struggling to adjust to his surroundings. The waning moon cast a faint glow into the room. Morgana’s eyes gleamed in the darkness, an unnatural beacon.

“I’m… fine. Sorry about waking you up.” Akira rubbed at his eyes as he spoke. 

Morgana climbed back on his chest. “You don’t need to apologise, Akira.” Morgana crept forward and rubbed his face against Akira’s. Akira unconsciously returned the gesture, finding comfort in the soft fur. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m fine, I swear.” 

Morgana frowned at him, but didn’t press the issue. “I saw you had your phone out.” Morgana leaped down - Akira a little sad without his warmth - and poked at the phone laying on the bed beside them. “What have I told you about getting to sleep early…?”

Akira laughed, silently glad his phone went to sleep. If it hadn’t…

“Do you think you can get back to sleep?” Morgana asked in a gentle voice, climbing back onto Akira. Akira ran a hand down Morgana’s back, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes, lulled to sleep by a gentle purring.

* * *

_9/13. Afternoon_

Marukyu Tofu was quiet until Akira rang the bell, summoning Rise from the back with an immediate enthusiasm.

“Akira-kun!” Rise cheered. In an instant, she pulled out a chair for him and set about preparing his usual order. 

“You’re enthusiastic today,” Akira noted. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” Rise replied, smiling at him. “I should be asking you that, loverboy. It’s been ages!”

“The store’s been busy lately, hasn’t it?” Akira came by decently frequently, but this was the first time he had the chance to say anything more than a brief greeting to Rise as she worked. Akira had a feeling that the paparazzi were actually some kind of invasive plant species, judging from how they all seemed to spring up at the same time. It was impossible to get a word in edgewise when they were around.

“You’re telling me.” Rise laughed, handing him his tofu - neatly bagged for his convenience - and taking a seat. “How are you, what’s been going on? How was your summer?”

“It was… a little hectic.” That was underselling it. “We went on a pretty big roadtrip.”

“Oh, really? Where’d you go?” 

“Well…”

* * *

“I see what you mean by hectic,” Rise murmured, laughing quietly. “That’s a lot of places to go in that short of a time.”

Akira put a hand on his neck, nodding. Rise went on. “Did you see any Phantom Thief business while you were out?” 

“What do you mean?” Playing dumb was way easier than trying to talk around it.

“What, weren’t you paying attention?” Rise’s incredulous expression almost made him feel embarrassed. “The Phantom Thieves came back for a bit! Aren’t kids your age supposed to be all about them?”

“We were busy,” Akira protested, “and it’s not like anything they do affects us!”

“It might,” Rise said, waving her hands around. “I might put in a request for you to have your heart changed for stalking a really pretty idol all the time.” 

Akira rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think Kanamin was in Inaba.”

“... Hey!” Rise pouted, snatching the tofu bag. “No tofu for anybody who’s mean to me.” Akira tried to grab the bag back, but Rise swatted his hand away. He went in again, but she picked up the bag and held it away from him.

And so the game began. Every time Akira reached for the bag, Rise either swatted at his hand or stole the bag out of the way. Shockingly, Rise was more than a match for his reflexes. He couldn’t even get close. 

Akira narrowed his eyes and _focused._

Joker gasped as blue blazed around the room, Ishtar’s cry coming just a second too late. He couldn’t see anything past the lines of power radiating in front of him. Something wasn’t right. Joker closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his head.

“Akira?” Rise’s hand was on his arm, and he reached for it blindly. He opened his eyes, but everything was blurry, foggy outlines. 

Akira swayed, and collapsed.

* * *

_9/13. ????_

Akira shuddered awake, head aching. He looked around the dim store, groaning as his eyes made contact with a light. He liked it more before he woke up.

“You’re awake!” A bright voice echoed in his ears, and as he tried to find his bearings, someone shoved a cup of water into his hand.

“Where…?” Akira rubbed at his eyes. What happened…?

“You’re in Marukyu Tofu. You collapsed all of a sudden. Are you okay?” Akira looked up at Rise’s concerned face. “Drink that, you probably need it.”

“Are you okay, Joker?” Morgana mewled from beside him. Akira hadn’t even noticed the furball curled up with him. He _must_ have been out of it.

“Why…?” Akira trailed off, looking between Rise and the water. He… He’d focused, hadn’t he? Brought out his Third Eye? What if he- 

_Don’t._

Ishtar didn’t quite yell at him, but her tone came through clearly: It was a bad idea. What about Marukyu Tofu made his Third Eye go haywire? Was it…

“Akira, you with us?” Rise snapped her fingers in front of his face, and Akira snapped to attention.

“Sorry, I’m a little dazed.” Akira looked out the window, moonlight streaming in. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours.” 

“Huh?” Akira didn’t follow, but he drank from the cup and he tried to sort out his thoughts.

“Yeah, we had to close up early,” Rise said, voice low like she was afraid of hurting him. “I was worried we’d have to take you to the hospital. How are you?”

That was a good question. “I’m… okay. Mostly just confused, that‘s all.” He looked at Rise again, and prepared to _focu-_

**_Stop it!_ ** _Don’t be stupid. It won’t go any better this time._

Ishtar scolded him as if he were a child. Why? What... happened?

_Be careful of what you observe. When unprepared, you shall be stripped bare before unforeseen strength and potential._

Akira had no idea what that meant, but he could tell from her tone that whatever happened was serious. His general rule of thumb was that if a Persona talked directly to him, he listened. He looked to Rise without his Third Eye and saw simple worry on her face.

“Do you know what happened?”

“... Not really.” That, at the very least, wasn’t a lie. That had _never_ happened before. Sure, sometimes he got a headache when he used his Third Eye too much, or when he was in an area with too many notable people around, but he’d never _fainted_ because of it.

Maybe he was just tired. 

* * *

_9/13. Evening_

“Oh, you’re finally home,” Ren snipped at Akira. “Thought you were in Tokyo again.”

“Are you sleeping properly, Aki-tan?” Sato asked, looking him up and down. “You look exhausted.

“I slept poorly last night. It’s no big deal,” Akira said, letting Morgana out of his bag. 

“It’s probably your cat’s fault,” Ren commented. “It can’t be healthy for it to sleep with you all the time.”

“Morgana is fine.” 

“Maybe you should try putting him outside at night?” Sato suggested. Akira just glared at the wall beyond her, too tired to put up with this... bullshit. She could say it a thousand more times, but that wouldn’t make him agree.

“He doesn’t affect my sleep, and I’m not putting him outside.” 

“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.” It seemed lighthearted enough, but Akira heard the mockery behind her words. How many times would they do this? “How was school today?”

“It was boring,” Akira answered. “We talked about some holidays, or something. I don’t remember.”

“You are paying attention in class, aren’t you?” Ren’s voice was stern. This, too - how many times had he heard it? “We won’t accept you slacking off, especially after the other day.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.” 

“Akira, it’s okay, be nice.” Akira knew Morgana was trying to coach him into being tolerable, but his head still ached. He wasn’t in the mood for niceties.

“I don’t like your tone, young man.” Akira didn’t like Ren’s tone either, but apparently it wasn’t a two-way street. “You’re lucky we didn’t ground you for any longer than we did, you know.”

“Thanks.” Akira tried not to roll his eyes. ‘Grounding’ him apparently almost exclusively consisted of depriving him of good coffee. They probably just couldn’t figure out anything else that wouldn’t inconvenience them too severely.

“We’re heading out for dinner tonight, so you’ll have to feed yourself,” Sato said. 

“I got tofu. I’m fine.”

“You really should eat more than tofu, Aki-bō.” And now he was being lectured on his food habits. Great.

“Acknowledge your father when he’s speaking to you, Aki-tan.”

He didn’t see any reason he should. “Sorry.” 

“You don’t sound very sorry.” 

“I’m sorry, alright?” Akira snapped. “I’m going to bed.” Before either of his parents could make another comment, he left the room. Without pausing for them to catch up, he walked to his room, fell on his bed, and lay there face-down.

“Are you okay, Akira?” Morgana purred comfortingly beside him, having apparently followed him. He appreciated the effort. “Is something up?”

“Just tired,” Akira mumbled into his bed. “Got a lot on my mind.” 

Morgana didn’t say anything else, but Akira could feel Morgana’s concern radiating out. He felt bad that he’d made Morgana worry, but he was _not_ feeling it. He needed a nap.

* * *

_9/15. Evening_

“Have you joined any of the clubs at school?” Sato’s question seemed innocuous, but Akira had heard that tone too many times to be fooled.

“No.” Akira slowly chewed through a potato, hoping that his parents would leave him alone while he ate.

“Why not?” No such luck. “You have plenty of time.”

“They don’t want me.” 

“What do you mean?” Sato was taken aback. 

“They don’t want me.” Akira stabbed his potato as he spoke. “I try to sign up and they forget, or they’re full, or they don’t tell me anything about when the club actually meets.”

“Maybe you just aren’t trying hard enough,” Sato suggested.

“Maybe.” 

“Why don’t they want you?” Ren inquired from across the room. Akira just sighed. “We’ve told you before, that’s what happens when you pick up a reputation.”

“I know.”

“This wouldn’t be so bad if you just tried to fix it, you know,” Ren’s voice bored into Akira’s head. It already hurt. He didn’t need more of this. “If you didn’t bring your cat around, maybe they’d-”

“Stop bringing Morgana into this!” Akira snapped. “I don’t know what your problem is with him, but it’s not his fault!”

Ren frowned, but didn’t press the topic. “I heard you’re not very well-liked with the PTA. Is there a reason why?”

“Dunno.” 

“Are you sure?” Akira recognised his father’s voice. It was the ‘I actually already know this, but I asked to see what you’d say’ voice. Great. “I heard that you got into a fight with one of the PTA head’s kids. Is that true?”

“He was giving another kid a hard time. I asked him to stop. That’s all.” Akira stuck another piece of potato in his mouth, hoping - again - they would take the hint.

“What have we told you about playing the hero, Aki-tan?” Sato stared at him, a hand on her chin.

“I didn’t play the hero,” Akira objected, biting his tongue a little. “I just told him to stop. It’s not a big deal.”

“Even if that’s true, I’m sure you could’ve done it differently,” Sato scolded. “Did you talk to a teacher?” 

“It’s not like they would’ve done anything.” 

“Dear…” His mother placed her hand on his. “You can’t be so cynical. I’m sure if you asked the right teacher-”

“I’m not a child, mother.” Akira took a deep breath. “I get it. I should’ve sat on my- I should’ve waited, and gone to a proper authority about it. I’ll do that next time.” 

“As long as you know for next time.” Obviously, that’s all he needed to do. Sit on his ass and let some responsible adults fix problems they already were willing to overlook. 

* * *

_9/16. Morning_

_Makoto: Has anybody heard from Akira recently?_

_ann: whats up?_

_Makoto: He’s just been quiet, that’s all._

_Makoto: I’m a little concerned._

_Joker: I’m fine._

_Haru: Are you sure? You can talk to us if you need to!_

_ryuryu: yeah man if u need anything were here_

_Joker: Thanks, but I’m okay._

_futababa: pressing x_

_futababa: uve been quieter than usual_

_futababa: is everything alright_

_Joker: Asking repeatedly isn’t going to change my answer, you know._

_Sumi: What have you been up to?_

_Joker: Not a lot. Schoolwork, mostly. What about all of you?_

_futababa: ur deflecting so u dont have to talk about urself_

_futababa: dont think u can get past me i used ALL the tricks in the book_

_Joker: It’s fine, I’ve just had a bit of a headache recently. It’s nothing major._

_futababa: hmhmhm_

_Makoto: Have you been drinking enough water?_

_ryuryu: has mona been sending u to sleep early enough_

_Haru: Do your eyes hurt from excess studying?_

_Joker: I appreciate it, all of you, but I can take care of myself._

_ann: uh huh_

_ann: we've seen you in palaces like we’re going to buy that_

_ann: you push yourself way too hard! of course we’re gonna check in on you_

_ann: its not like we can trust your parents to do it for us lmao_

_Sumi: Oh, that reminds me, what were their names again?_

_Joker: Why do you want to know?_

_Sumi: I’m just curious!_

_Makoto: Ren and Sato Kurusu, correct?_

_Joker: …_

_Joker: Why are you asking?_

_Joker: You weren’t particularly interested in their names last time._

_Sumi: Is something wrong?_

_Joker: If you’re going to check their names, don’t waste your time._

_Makoto: Check their names? Against what?_

_Sumi: Oh, I must not have been that subtle, haha_

_Sumi: It’s nothing against them! It just occurred to me, so I wanted to make sure_

_futababa: @joker why did u say waste ur time like that_

_futababa: thats sus_

_Joker: …_

_Joker: I checked their names already._

_Makoto: In the Meta-Nav, correct?_

_Makoto: I assume there wasn’t a hit._

_Makoto: …… Right?_

“When did you do that?” Morgana asked, peering over his shoulder. “I don’t remember that.”

Akira didn’t respond, instead slowly tapping out a response.

“Wait, what?” 

_Joker: There was a hit._

“You’re joking, right?”

_Joker: My parents have a Palace._

_Joker: Sorry, but I need to get to school._

Akira closed his phone, and, as a wave of vibrations hit like the world’s worst massage chair, he turned it off. He… would deal with that later.

* * *

_9/16. Afternoon_

As casual as his reveal had been, he couldn’t stop thinking about it the entire day. It went by in a flash, the only highlights being Morgana’s attempts to get information out of him. He hadn’t answered, of course, and Morgana had agreed to wait to see what the other Thieves had to say.

The _moment_ he stepped outside Yasogami High, his phone turned on. A second later, it opened itself to the Thieves’ chat. Futaba wasn’t subtle in the least.

_Makoto: Hey, Akira, we were talking about what you said this morning._

_Makoto: So, we’d like to know: Have you investigated at all? Do you know what their keywords are?_

_Joker: I don’t know anything. I found out they have a Palace but didn’t look into it any further._

_Makoto: That’s what I thought._

_Makoto: Are your parents around this weekend?_

_Joker: … I have no idea. I’d have to ask. Why?_

_Makoto: Could you go and ask for us?_

That was an odd request. What…?

* * *

Akira hadn’t even made it to the door when he saw his parents. They stood outside packing things into the car, visibly harried.

“What’s going on?” 

Sato jumped at the unexpected voice, slowly turning to face him. “You scared me, Aki-tan.”

Akira placed his hand on his neck. “Sorry about that.”

Sato turned back, continuing to pack as she spoke. “We got an urgent call from work. Our latest project had the deadline moved up, and some files got corrupted, so we’re working overtime. We won’t be home for a while.”

“Good luck.”

* * *

_Joker: Futaba, did you actually sabotage their project?_

_futababa: mwehehe_

_Joker: Why?_

_Makoto: Take a guess._

_Joker: What in the world are you all up to?_

_futababa sent secretplanningchat.png_

* * *

_Makoto: Everybody else thinks this is a problem, right?_

_ryuryu: yeah_

_ann: i’m worried about him!_

_futababa: this is a big deal_

_Haru: I don’t want to overstep our boundaries, but this isn’t something we can just ignore._

_Yusuke: This needs further investigation, post haste._

_Makoto: So are our minds made up?_

_futababa: were going to inaba asap._

* * *

_Joker: You guys are doing what?_

_Makoto: We’re coming to your location._

_Joker: Isn’t this a little hasty? Don’t you all have responsibilities?_

_Sumi: I do :/_

_futababa: its ok well keep u updated_

_Makoto: Besides, we’ve had the entire day to discuss this._

_Makoto: While I don’t approve of texting during school, this was severe enough that it seems justifiable._

_ryuryu: i wasnt paying attention anyway lol_

_Yusuke: My education will hardly be at risk should I pay minimal attention during class for a day._

_ann: haha yeah me too for sure_

_Makoto: We can have a study session to make up for it, or something._

_Makoto: Regardless, unless you have a really good reason, we’re on our way._

_Joker: Guys…_

Akira couldn’t think of a retort. They had decided this was necessary, and they weren’t going to let him stop them. He couldn’t complain too much, though - he would never turn down the chance to see them.

* * *

The strangest part of the Metaverse returning, in Akira’s opinion, was the door to the Velvet Room in the middle of the Shopping District. Sure, he’d seen weirder places for it - why the door was in _Shinjuku_ he would never understand - but it was definitely still weird.

Stranger, however, was the young girl with butterfly-adorned hair, standing outside the entrance like she was waiting on him.

“Lavenza?” 

“Good day, Trickster.” Lavenza curtseyed. Akira looked around to make sure nobody was paying attention to the strange blue girl in the middle of the street.

“What are you doing here?” 

“I felt the cord of our bond tugging, and I could only follow.” Akira liked Lavenza, he really did, but talking to her gave him a headache sometimes. Igor, too, but he didn’t have to talk to Igor that much.

“Do you need something?” Akira asked. “I’m sort of busy.”

“What is it that ails you so, Trickster?” 

“It’s not anything dramatic, but…” Akira chuckled, placing his hand on his neck. “I have to go tutor a friend of mine, and then I need to get home, because everybody else is coming over.”

“I had wondered why it was that fate called to me on this day of all days.” Lavenza seemed positively radiant, for some reason. “Shall we go?”

Akira wasn’t sure what she was - wait. 

“You want to come with me?”

“Indeed.” Lavenza continued to smile. “While I cannot spend too much time with you, as I have duties within the Room, I would enjoy meeting this friend of yours.” Akira had no idea how to head this idea off.

“Let me ask Nanako first...?” Lavenza just stood, waiting for his cue. Alright.

* * *

“Hi, Akira-kun!” Nanako was cheerful, but he could tell that she was a little off-put by the guest he brought. She had accepted readily over the phone, but…

“Hi, Nanako-chan. This is Lavenza.” Akira gestured over to the young girl - surprisingly similar in height and apparent age - who nodded in Nanako’s direction.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Nanako Dojima.” Lavenza’s voice was light and airy, but her formality made Nanako look to Akira for help.

“She’s a friend of mine…” Akira started, “and she had some time, and wanted to meet one of my friends?”

“My apologies if my visit seemed sudden,” Lavenza murmured. “I felt called to spend time with my Trick- with,” Lavenza hesitated, the name foreign from her lips, “Akira.”

“That’s cool.” Nanako visibly didn’t know what to say. “I like your outfit!”

“My outfit?” Lavenza looked down at herself, holding her dress out slightly and pulling at the… fabric. Was that normal fabric? “I think rarely of it, but I suppose it is quite unlike most.” Where did she even get that dress? Did Igor make it? Akira made a note to ask later.

“It’s pretty,” Nanako said, and Akira could have sworn that colour came to Lavenza’s cheeks. 

… Did Lavenza even have blood?

* * *

“What is the purpose in solving for this number?” Lavenza asked. “Is it simply an exercise to learn a process, or does this number have some greater value?” 

“The greater value is whatever x equals,” Akira answered. “We’re just making sure Nanako understands how to solve it.”

“How old are you, Lavenza-chan?” Akira was shocked she hadn’t asked earlier. While Lavenza definitely looked to be around Nanako’s age, she had little knowledge of anything in Nanako’s schoolwork.

“Hm…” Lavenza paused, clearly not quite sure of how to answer. “While I cannot answer that exactly…”

Nanako’s surprise was clear on her face. “You don’t know?” 

“It is somewhat complex of a question to answer. My apologies.”

“That’s okay,” Nanako said, grinning. “Big Bro has a friend who doesn’t know her age either.”

“Wait, really?” Akira looked up from Nanako’s homework, where he was working out the sheet’s math problems ahead of time. “Why not?”

“I dunno.” Akira gestured for her to elaborate. “I asked her recently and she said that she thinks she’s sixteen, but that would mean she was twelve when I met her, and that can’t be true.” 

“Age is a curious thing, is it not?” Lavenza chuckled, playing with her hair. “It seems of such import, yet means nothing but how much opportunity one has had to grow.” 

Akira and Nanako both just stared at Lavenza. She didn’t so much as blink.

* * *

“I think we should wrap this up,” Akira said, standing up from the table. “It’s getting late, and I need to take Lavenza back.”

Akira packed up some of his reference materials - Shu lent him quite a few books before leaving - while Nanako and Lavenza exchanged some chatter. Despite Lavenza’s… strangeness, he felt like the two genuinely seemed to get along.

Nanako escorted them to the door and thanked Akira for his help. 

“Bye, Akira-kun! Bye, Lavenza-chan!”

Nanako waved them off with a grin on her face, and soon the duo were gone.

“That was quite enjoyable, Trickster. I had not expected to meet such a wonderful young woman on today’s outing.” Lavenza’s voice was soft in the evening air, butterfly-adorned ears almost sparkling in the dim light. 

“I’m glad to hear you had fun.” Akira breathed a silent sigh of relief. He wouldn’t call it a good idea, but at least it ended well… despite how uncomfortable it was at first.

“I would like to do that again.”

… Oh no.

“Maybe later. Let’s get you back to the Velvet Room.” 

* * *

_9/16. Evening_

A sharp rapping at the door informed Akira that the first batch of guests had arrived. He went to get up from the couch, but a black blur beat him to the door, turning the knob even without hands.

“Aww, thanks, Mona!” Futaba’s voice echoed around Akira’s head as he walked to the door. 

“You’re really here,” Akira remarked, glancing between the trio at his doorstep. Futaba bounced into the house ahead of Haru and Makoto, who both waved. 

“Futaba found your address for us,” Makoto murmured, “if you’re wondering.” 

“I had a feeling,” Akira said dryly. He waved his hand to the side. “Welcome.”

“So this is what your house looks like…” Haru strolled in, stopping every few steps to examine something on the wall, or on a table, or kicked under the sink because nobody wanted to actually put it where it belonged.

“Guys!” Futaba’s voice echoed from the other side of the house. “Come and look at his room!”

“I feel like an exhibit,” Akira commented, watching Haru and Makoto mill around in his home examining things.

“Oh!” Makoto quickly put the photo frame back on the bench. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

Akira stepped over and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. “It’s alright, I’m just poking fun. Examine as much as you’d like.” He rubbed his hand against Makoto’s now-burning cheek, and pointed back to the frame.

“Well…” She picked it up again, holding it gingerly. “Is this you?”

Akira looked at the picture. Some kid with a mess of black hair smiled nervously at the camera, the picture taken moments before he tried bungee jumping for the first time. Akira felt a pang at the memory.

“Yeah, when I was a kid.” Akira poked the boy in the picture, scratching at his hair. “Can you believe I was that small?”

“Oh, I’ve been there!” Haru placed her head on his shoulder (with great difficulty - she had to stand on tiptoes in order to manage it) and looked at the picture with them. “It was a lot of fun!”

“It was pretty good.” Akira couldn’t really remember it very well - the camps blended together - but he vaguely remembered fearing for his life.

Something poked Akira’s back. “Joooker! I want coffee!” He turned - awkwardly, trying not to hurt Haru’s neck - and poked Futaba back.

“Sorry, we don’t have good stuff around at the moment.”

“Why not…” Futaba pouted, and Akira poked her nose. She stuck her tongue out at him. He considered poking that too, but… ew.

“My tongue isn’t gross!”

“What, are you a mind reader now?” Akira laughed, before freezing. Was she? The Metaverse was back, and she was a support…

“No, you dummy, I could tell by your face.” Akira breathed a sigh of relief. “I can’t even read minds in the Metaverse!”

“Your powers are quite unique, though,” Haru agreed. “Sometimes it seems like you’re teleporting us around.”

“Mwehehe, that’s because I am!” Futaba was almost as excited as Akira felt confused. “Well, it’s more like I’m teleporting the world around you, but…”

“I will never understand how your powers work,” Makoto mumbled, wandering off towards the kitchen. “Akira, do you mind if I have some food? I forgot to eat lunch.”

Akira accompanied her to the kitchen and watched her rifle through cupboards.

“You barely have anything here.” Makoto continued to open doors, peering in as if food would be hidden in the back corners. “What do you even eat?”

Akira shrugged. “Curry, mostly.” 

“You couldn’t even make curry from this!” Akira raised an eyebrow as he mimicked Makoto’s actions, finding a near-barren cupboard. He could’ve sworn… “Parents must’ve taken some stuff with them. We can go on a supplies run in a little bit, if you’d like.”

Makoto just frowned at him. He wasn’t quite sure why.

“Rest of the team detected!” _Finally_.

* * *

“Woah…” Ryuji had - unfortunately - found an old photo album, and the team rifled through it, pointing out pictures of his most embarrassing childhood memories.

“Aww, little Akira’s so cute!” Ann cooed over a picture Akira leaned in to see. A tiny child pouted as his picture was taken. He held up a misshapen clay pot nonetheless, clearly only hesitantly complying with whoever took the picture. “Didn’t you like getting your picture taken?”

“Not really,” Akira laughed, placing his hand on his neck. “People always asked for pictures when I was in the middle of something, and I didn’t want to take a break.”

“Oh, look at this one.” Yusuke placed his finger on an image of a paint-splattered Akira, standing beside… Akira had no idea what the painting was supposed to be. “I remember what it was like to be so young and carefree. I would paint and paint and paint until it looked as if I had bathed in it.”

“You still do, Inari,” Futaba commented, pulling at his paint-stained sleeve.

“Ah! I must have missed that when selecting this shirt. I shall endeavour to clean it soon.”

* * *

“So…” Ryuji started, picking up another slice of pizza. “When’re we gonna get started on the thing we came for?”

“I was wondering if you’d all forgotten,” Akira murmured, feeling the air around him get serious.

“Of course not, Akira.” Makoto placed her food down on her plate and sat up, expression serious. “We just didn’t want to overwhelm you all at once.”

Akira rolled his eyes fondly as various noises of accord sounded from around the group. Even when they were being overbearing, they were still considerate.

“So which one of your parents is it?” Futaba asked, pizza slice held an inch in front of her mouth.

“Both of them, I’m pretty sure.”

Futaba choked on her pizza a little. “Wait a sec-”

“Futaba, please don’t talk with food in your mouth,” Makoto scolded. Futaba quickly swallowed.

“Like, both of them have Palaces? Really?”

“I think they both have the same Palace, but I haven’t checked.” 

“Is that… like, how it works?” Ryuji asked.

“I suppose there have been some Mementos targets who shared a location.” One of Makoto’s hands was on her chin, the other on her phone. “Sato and Ren Kurusu.”

_“C_ _andidates Found._ ”

Surprise resonated around the room as they all tried to figure out what that meant. Had none of them…?

“Did none of you check before coming down?”

“I did, but…” Haru trailed off, leaning over to Makoto’s phone. She held it out, and Haru spoke. “Sato Kurusu.”

_“Candidate Found_.”

“Ren Kurusu.”

_“Candidate Found._ ”

Akira didn’t understand what the big deal was. So what if the Metaverse Navigator recognised their names separately and together- … wait a second.

“Let me try something.” Akira waved for the phone. “Sato Kurusu and Mementos.”

The phone hummed for a moment. _“Too much information entered. Please try again."_

Akira handed the phone back in silence, and there was a pause.

“So what?” Ryuji was much less confused than the rest of the group. “Either way, means they’ve got distorted desires, right?”

“It does, but…” Makoto spun her phone in her hand as she thought. “Is it one Palace or two? Is it a combined Palace?”

“All we need to do is figure out the keywords, right?” Ann asked. “Then we’ll know if it takes us to the same place.”

“Makes sense to me.” 

“I can agree with that approach.”

“Let’s do this!” Futaba was cheerful, but the collective glance towards Akira dampened the mood considerably. They all just… stared at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Is something wrong?”

“Well…” Makoto started, but it was obvious she didn’t know what to say.

“They’re your parents, Akira.” Haru’s voice was gentle, but there was a trace of… bitterness in her tone. Bittersweet, probably. “We’re not going to do anything until you give us the go-ahead.”

“I mean, you came here on your own.” Akira winced at his own tone, but it was _true._

“That’s different!” Futaba protested.

“Why?” 

“Well…” She fell silent.

“We were just worried about you, man,” Ryuji said, speaking up after a moment of silence. “Havin’ a Palace doesn’t hafta mean anything, but it doesn’t mean nothing, y’know? Didn’t want you getting, like, hurt behind our backs or something…” 

“... Thanks.” Akira didn’t really know what to say. That was a much more genuine response than he expected, and… Well, if he wasn’t already in love with Ryuji, he would be now. “Sorry to worry you guys.”

“You are okay, right?” Futaba asked, voice soft. “Like I don’t want to suspect the worst but I’m a little worried and you were weirdly quiet and you’ve never really talked about your parents with us unless we brought it up and I just got-”

“Futaba.” Her mouth gaped like a fish, and Akira gently reached over and pushed it closed. “It’s okay, I promise. They’ve never… y’know, hurt me, or anything. I would’ve mentioned that.” As if to emphasise the point, he rolled up his sleeves to show his pristine arms.

“Good.”

“Besides, I wouldn’t let them do that to me, anyway.” Akira laughed, trying to diffuse a little tension. “I’m way stronger than either of them, thanks to all the Thief stuff.”

“Just because they aren’t hitting you…” Makoto glanced between Yusuke and Haru uncomfortably, but didn’t say anything more.

“We can work that out later, everybody.” Morgana climbed to the centre of the table. “I would’ve told you guys if anything was happening anyway, don’t worry. We should figure out the Palace keywords before we leap to assumptions.”

“Thanks, Mona.” Ann reached out and scratched his ears gently. He purred.

“He never lets me pet him,” Akira complained.

“Lady Ann is special! Finish your food, everybody, and we’ll get to work.”

* * *

_9/16. Evening_

“So, does anybody have any ideas?” With food devoured and plates cleaned, the Thieves splayed across Akira’s room like a motley of giant dust mites. For some reason, Futaba was already under his bed. He didn’t question it.

“Dunno. Akira, you got anything?”

“I…” Akira let out a deep breath. That was a good question. After all, they _were_ his parents. Had they said anything…?

“We could always try guessing!” Ann suggested.

“Shouldn’t we figure out the place of distortion first?” Morgana piped up. Oh, yeah. It’d been a while.

“Well, since we’re here… Inaba?” The Metaverse Navigator responded in the negative, and Ryuji sat up further. “Japan.” Nope. “Uh…”

“You’re thinking too big, Ryuji.” Ann poked him in the shoulder. “Remember, they’re just regular people.”

“It would logically be ‘the Kurusu household’, would it not?”

_“Results Found."_

“Nice going, Yusuke!” Ryuji held his hand up for a high-five, but Yusuke, across the room, simply waved.

“Is this for one of them or both of them?” Futaba asked.

“Both.”

Silence fell over the room again. What did his parents think of his house as? What could they possibly think of his house as, other than a house? A home? That would be distorted for _him,_ but not for them. Was that a problem? Should he bring that up? 

“Money bath.” Ann’s guess brought him out of his spiralling thoughts, and he breathed a sigh of relief when the Nav didn’t have a result. That would be more than a little pathetic.

* * *

“Stadium?” Nope.

“Casino, maybe?” Not at all.

“Castle?” Negative.

“Museum?” Of course n-

_“Results Found."_

“Oh, shit!” Ryuji pumped his fist in the air. “We’re in there!”

“Another museum? How drab,” Yusuke remarked. 

There was another moment of silence.

“... Shouldn’t the Nav have ‘started navigation’ or something?” Ever the first to speak, Ryuji broke the expectant silence.

“It normally does, doesn’t it?” Haru asked, picking up the phone. She read the screen before holding it out wordlessly to the group.

Akira leaned in to read it. Was there an error?

“Is it… waiting on something?” Makoto reached out for the phone herself, taking it in her hand and poking at it. As far as Akira could tell…

“There’s another box.” He placed his finger on the oddity immediately. “It’s waiting for another input.”

“Is it because there’s two of them?” Ann asked. Akira could only shrug.

“... Does that mean we gotta find _another_ one?”

* * *

“Castle.”

“We already tried that one.” Futaba yawned. “Inari, you got one?” 

There was silence.

“Inari?” Futaba crawled out from under the bed to peer across the room, hand covering her eyes as she adjusted to the light again.

“He’s asleep,” Akira murmured, gesturing to the sleeping beauty.

“He’s standing up!” Futaba protested.

“Still asleep.”

Futaba understood falling asleep easily, but… “He fell asleep standing up? Again?” 

“I-” Makoto had to pause, a yawn escaping the moment she dared open her mouth. “- have to agree with him. It’s quite late, and even if we did find the keyword, we wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.” Makoto rubbed at her eyes. “How about we all go to sleep? We’ll work on this in the morning.”

“I am super down with that,” Futaba answered, crawling back under the bed with glee.

“... Are you really going to sleep under there?”

“Heck yeah I am!”

* * *

_9/17. Morning_

“Did we try a racetrack already?”

“Yeah, we did.” 

Akira tried his best to ignore the ideas shot back and forth while he shopped. If they were going into the Metaverse, they needed supplies, and while he had a handful of Somas and the like left from previous expeditions, they’d benefit from having smaller, cheaper bits of recovery rather than blowing their high-quality items unnecessarily.

The bad part of this was that it meant that - on account of not having anything else to do - he had a gaggle of Thieves following him around Junes, being… helpful.

“Should we be writing these down?” Makoto asked, slumped over a trolley.

“Nope! Photographic memory!” Futaba laughed, full of energy and practically bouncing around the shop. Akira was glad the shop was deserted.

* * *

“Morning, Akira-kun. Who’d ya bring?” The question snapped Akira out of the daze that came with watching Ryuji and Morgana squabble like children over whether one brand of protein or another was better. Morgana had never tried either of them.

“Oh, Yosuke-san, good morning.” Akira yawned a little, waving. “My friends are down for a day. I didn’t have work today, did I?”

“Nah, you’re good.” Yosuke smiled, scanning across the squad. “Are these the friends I’ve heard so much about?”

“Hey, Akira, do you want-” Futaba froze upon seeing the unfamiliar face, but as Akira went to step in front of her for cover, she shook herself out. “Uh. Hi! Hello there. Nice to, uh, meet you. Do you know him?” She gestured in Akira’s direction. 

“I’m his boss. Nice to meet ya.” Yosuke nodded to her. His hand twitched just slightly, and Akira stifled a laugh when he realised the twitch was a handshake being retracted before it was offered. Astute.

“Hi. Uh. Any, anyway, uh, I’m. Bye!” Futaba turned tail and ran. 

“Was that my fault, or…?” Yosuke turned to Akira.

“She’s just like that, it’s okay,” Akira answered with a smile.

* * *

“Joker…” Akira turned from comparing a set of eggplants toward Makoto's quiet voice.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, putting the eggplants down.

“Do you feel like we’re being watched?” Makoto asked casually, picking up the eggplants and putting them in the trolley.

“Around here? Always.” Akira matched Makoto’s casual mannerisms, but she froze up when she processed his words.

“For real?” 

Akira could only laugh. “Ryuji’s rubbing off on you.” Makoto did not follow, judging from her face, but he moved past it. “Yeah, I always feel like somebody’s watching me in here. I got used to it a while back.”

Makoto did not ask further questions in favour of looking around surreptitiously for the mystery eyes Akira had long since given up on finding.

* * *

“Hey, Akira-kun!” Yosuke flagged him down, carrying… a watermelon in his arms? “Sorry if it’s sudden, but I saw you shopping and I realised.”

“What is it, Yosuke-san?” Akira put his hands out, and Yosuke plopped the whole watermelon in them. 

“Bead Melon! Super high quality, really good if you do a lot of exercise. Makes you feel good as new.” 

Akira eyed the watermelon suspiciously. “So why are you offering it to me?”

“Well…” Yosuke stroked a hand through his (own) hair as he spoke. “I saw you guys were stocking up, and I figured I’d give my personal recommendation for you all.”

Akira wasn’t quite sure what to make of the offer, but he accepted the mystery watermelon from his boss, as per usual.

“There’s more in the back, too, and they keep really well!” Akira followed in vague bewilderment as Yosuke successfully sold him more watermelon than he had space for.

* * *

_9/17. Afternoon_

“Giant race car bed.” They hadn’t expected it to be so hard to find the second keyword, but the hours ticked by and - even surrounded by a collection of foodstuffs - they were no closer to the keyword than last time.

“Futaba, did we try everything we came up with while shopping?” Makoto asked, tired. 

Futaba’s eyes glazed over for a moment - processing, probably - and she frowned. “I… think so? What did you guys try when I grabbed a snack?”

Unsurprisingly, nobody remembered.

“Uh…” Futaba scuttled over to the phone. “Circus, base, prison, uh…” Negative responses all around. Futaba continued. “Opera house, train, cemetery…” Nothing. “Hospital, college, university, mall…” 

“Has anybody tried lab yet?” Ann asked, holding up her phone with a picture of a dog on it. 

There was a moment of laughter before the world _shifted._ _“ Beginning Navigation."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a while, oops. I would like to promise faster chapters, but...
> 
> Part of the issue - no offence if you bother to read this - was my editor getting into kpop. Call her a loser in the comments for me. The other part of the issue was that I have a policy of exclusively releasing chapters when I have the entire next chapter written (but not edited), and as you can probably guess, next chapter is a big one that I had to make sure I was doing a good job on. Be excited for that one if you want, I know I was excited to write it.


	10. Infiltration

_9/17. Afternoon_

Entering the Metaverse never felt the same. It was never easy to adjust to the feeling of reality warping - and, just to keep the Thieves on their toes, it never went quite alike. Sometimes they appeared with their shoes on the wrong feet or their items in the wrong bag compartment - nothing harmful so far, but just enough to make it impossible to get used to. It made sense, really - when entering a cognitive distortion, it seemed reasonable for some things to get scrambled along the way. 

It was far more unsettling when what was supposed to be a distortion seemed to be a perfect copy of reality.

“Woah…” Futaba looked around the room with wide eyes, goggles resting on top of her head. “We got in!”

Akira climbed to his feet, scanning the room. “Are you sure? This still looks like my room.” 

He moved his fingers, feeling his gloves stretch. That was enough to tell him the answer, but not enough to make him believe it. It was a perfect copy of his room, down to the way his bed didn’t sit quite centered against the wall.

“Is this a Safe Room?” Makoto wondered.

“That’s what my readings say,” Futaba confirmed.

The room shifted dizzyingly for a moment, cognition shining through unsteadily. The familiar decorations and muted colours of his room morphed into cold, sleek walls of marble and metal. His Risette poster shifted into a security camera, Desire and Hope became some kind of mural - and, as fast as they came, the distortions vanished.

“This means we’re already considered threats, correct?” Yusuke asked, pulling at his tail.

Akira decided not to think about that. There was probably a good explanation for why his parents were so on guard. 

He walked over to the door and cracked it open, thoroughly putting his concerns aside. 

The moment he stepped outside, blue flames washed over him, and - in a heartbeat - Joker’s outfit evaporated. That was new. 

The Safe Room exited out into a dingy hallway with walls that matched the distortions in the Safe Room. It seemed like they were near the back of the overall Palace. A gooey figure outfitted in a white coat, a blue hat with ‘SECURITY’, and a baton stood in front of him. Joker nodded to the figure - which stared back at him, dumbfounded - and quietly slipped back inside.

The moment he stepped inside, his outfit returned. Weird.

Haru turned from studying the Risette poster. “Your outfit disappeared out there…?”

“Apparently.” Akira shrugged. “Anyway, it looks like we’re deep inside the Palace. We might want to try entering from somewhere else.”

“Isn’t this good, though?” Ryuji jumped to his feet. “We can just speed through here!” 

“No way.” Futaba shook her head, waving a screen over to Ryuji. “Things get stronger the closer we get to the Treasure, and we don’t know anything about this place yet. We could get ambushed or gimmicked and we’d be totally screwed.”

“Besides,” Makoto scolded, “we don’t even know that we’re going to do anything here, Skull. We shouldn’t rush into things.” 

Ryuji half-sighed, half-groaned, and slumped over a little. “Whatever you say, Queen…”

* * *

They walked out in front of the house and - after triple checking nobody was watching them - entered the Metaverse again. 

“It’s bigger than I expected,” Ryuji remarked.

In place of the house was a towering building, shining with neon lights and dizzying rows upon rows of windows. Akira had expected it to look more like Madarame’s Palace - ‘museum’ was a keyword, after all - but this looked more like an annoyingly ostentatious skyscraper. No matter how far back he craned his neck, he couldn’t even begin to see the top. 

“Are we going to walk in the front door?” Futaba asked. 

“Why not?” Joker responded. The two stared at each other straight-faced before Futaba finally broke down and started laughing.

“You two…” Makoto sighed as Akira joined Futaba in laughter. “Now, how are we going to enter?”

“We’ll do some recon,” Akira said, straightening back up. “I can’t imagine it’s a good idea to go in the front door, especially when Shadows…” he trailed off, seeing a flash of blue. “Good news, Velvet Room is here.”

“I mean, we don’t really need it, do we?” Ryuji asked. “After all, it’s not like you’re gonna fuse anything stronger than what you’ve got, right?” 

“It’s still good to have on hand, you know.” Akira flipped through his Persona lineup, evaluating it for a moment. While he was very proud of his (and Futaba’s, and Makoto’s) work, it wasn’t quite perfect. “If we run into specific problems I can go and make something to deal with it.”

“I was under the impression that Fafnir was invulnerable. What more do you require?” Yusuke asked.

“Fafnir is pretty much invincible, it’s true,” Akira murmured, summoning the metallic dragon to demonstrate his point, “but he’s not that strong. If the enemy has Almighty attacks or they’re immune to Nuclear, I can’t really use him. Even if I can attack with him, I’m hitting with a wet noodle.”

“Ah, I see.” Yusuke just nodded and returned to sketching the Palace.

“Isn’t it better for you to never have to worry about getting hurt, though?” Haru tilted her head to the side.

“Not if you guys can still get hurt.” Akira flicked his hand, and Fafnir dissipated. “The best defense is wiping out the enemy before they can get an attack off, and Fafnir sucks at that.” 

Haru hummed, but she didn’t raise any further questions.

“Are we ready to go?” Futaba zoomed over in Al Azif.

“Gimme a sec.” Akira walked over to the blue door. “Need to adjust something, I’ll be back in a minute.”

* * *

“Welcome, Trickster.” Lavenza curtseyed upon seeing Akira walk in, a bright smile hidden behind decorum. “My master has a gift for you.”

Oh? Igor didn’t give him gifts very often, and he had mostly expected that whole deal to be off after _saving the world._ What was this about?

“I have been observing you, Trickster,” Igor began, tapping his spindly fingers on the desk, “and I have noted a great potential within you. I believe it prudent to grant you an expansion of your powers, albeit a minor one.” Igor waved his hand.

Akira’s eyes opened wide as his mind filled with light, bathing his subconscious with warmth. It had been… a _long_ time.

“Your capacity for Personas has grown, and with it comes new potential.” All of a sudden, the light filling Akira’s head vanished, leaving behind a void that now felt cold and empty. Akira was glad none of the Thieves heard his quiet protest. “You may now hold two more Personas within you at a time.”

That was convenient. He had been coming to the Velvet Room to switch out one of his Personae for Yoshitsune, but now he could just have them all at once. Did Igor know that?

“Indeed.” Igor chuckled. Lavenza looked between Igor and Akira, a little lost. Akira shrugged back at her. Igor was weird.

* * *

“Is everybody ready?” Joker asked, checking over the group’s equipment. It hadn’t changed, of course - they were still decked out with the gear they’d had before he left Tokyo, for the most part, and none of it needed replacing yet (a small mercy of the Metaverse) - but it was calming to check before they did anything.

“Ready as I’ll ever be!” Ann cracked her whip in the air, making Futaba squeak a little in surprise. “Oh, sorry!” 

Futaba just grumbled at her.

* * *

“The music in this place sucks…” Futaba whined, dragging her feet a half-step behind Joker. “It’s all quiet and ominous. Couldn’t we have gotten a good theme?” 

Joker rolled his eyes, reaching behind him to flick Futaba on the nose. 

None of them really knew _why_ music was a constant feature of the Metaverse, or why the music changed from location to location. Morgana theorised at first that it was a side effect of how constant music was in the real world, but when Ann asked why they so rarely heard songs that _existed_ outside of the Metaverse, he came up short. Since then, it was just another thing about the Metaverse. They went somewhere new, the air played music. 

Unfortunately, the Palace they were in didn’t have particularly enjoyable music. It was low, discordant and scattered, notes thrown into the wind carelessly. There was frustratingly little hint of melody or any kind of progression. He knew the current Palace rulers weren’t exactly musically-inclined, but they could have done a little better than _this._

Was that petty? Hopefully.

* * *

_9/17. ???_

The Thieves crept through the Palace halls in silence, carefully avoiding the few Shadows they met. After slipping away from the swarm of guards gathered around the side window they broke for their entrance, it seemed like most of the Shadows hadn’t returned to their posts. It made it easy to investigate, but there wasn’t much to see. Aside from a few scattered pictures, all of which were too old and faded to make out any details, the Thieves couldn’t find anything to distinguish this Palace from any other. No immediate gimmicks or distinct visual traits. Bluntly put, it was _boring_. 

“Joker, over here.” Akira hurried over to Makoto, who stood by a door she’d cracked open, peering through the gap.

“Is something there?” he asked, pulling out his knife.

“Yeah.” Makoto pushed the door open.

Akira’s breath caught in his throat. Rows and rows and rows of glass cubes stood in picture-perfect rows, so unerringly precise that it made his vision twist. Above them, the roof towered, fading to a single distant point. Around the walls were balconies, walkways and viewing points, reminding him almost of a theatre, and Joker’s keen eye noticed more cubes suspended with thick ropes above them. The only breaks from the repetitive scenery were dark support beams dotted around, the only disturbance to otherwise perfect rows.

“Woah, this place is huge…” Futaba walked out into the room with mouth agape, looking between the holographic screen hovering near her head and the towering space, clearly doubting both her readings and her eyes. “I can’t even tell if it has a top!”

“It has me,” Akira suggested, but his voice was weak. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. Futaba ignored him in favour of leaning down to read one of the displays. 

“Day-care?” Futaba muttered. “Hey, Inari, get your butt in here, this looks artsy!” On command, Yusuke peeled out of the darkness and crouched at Futaba’s side.

“Artsy?” Yusuke looked offended. “While I understand that the definition of art is subjective, I can hardly see how this diorama would require an expert eye. Although the figures in this are minimally designed, it clearly conveys a distinct scene to even the most common of viewers-”

“Whatever you say, Inari,” Futaba exclaimed, standing up and patting him on the head condescendingly. “Anyways, Joker, get over here and check this out!”

Akira complied and was soon staring at a simplistic scene constructed with primarily cloth and sticks. A figure in gold sat in the centre of a throng of featureless sticks, all of which faced towards a single, much larger stick. It was - to put it lightly - crude. 

“How underwhelming,” Akira murmured, tracing the plaque with his hand. “What’s it supposed to mean?”

“Dunno, but there’s a lot more of them around!” Futaba hurried off, apparently unfettered by trying to figure out the purpose of it all. Akira followed, hands in his pockets and a hint of a frown on his face.

* * *

“Oh, these ones are getting more complicated!” Futaba called out, convincing Akira to move from a display titled ‘Test’. They’d wandered through the room for several minutes with seemingly no end to the displays in sight. Each cube contained another simply-named diorama, each featuring either a white or gold figure in some mundane setting. 

Akira reached out to the plaque. Laughter rippled around the room the moment his glove made contact with the unnaturally-cold metal. Akira jerked his hand back on reflex, silencing the laughter. 

After waving all the Thieves over, he slowly placed his hand back on the plaque. Immediately, the laughter resumed where it left off, and the diorama sprung to life. This diorama - true to Futaba’s exclamation - was more detailed, composed of small figures with carefully-chiseled features. For the first time, the gold and white figures were both in the same display.

“It’s good to meet you, Kurusu-kun!” A young woman’s voice sounded, and the figure in gold moved over to the figure in white. The two held out small hands and shook, cartoonishly large smiles etching themselves into the faces of the figures before being erased by an unseen hand. 

Akira pursed his lips, looking between the plaque - simply titled ‘Meeting’ - and the two figures. “Neat.” 

* * *

From there on out, the dioramas grew in both complexity and size, disturbing the idyllic conformity of the rows up to that point. The gold and white figures were inseparable in the displays, never without the other, and they were always accompanied by short snippets of noise and dialogue.

Finally, after Akira had given up hope of the scenery changing, the rows of glass cases stopped, opening out into a clearing. 

In the centre of the clearing stood a giant scene of a chapel, pews filled with mannequins lining the halls. In the centre, in front of a mannequin wearing a hat with an oversized cross, stood… Akira’s parents.

Ren stood, garbed in a pristine white suit that fit him like a glove. It looked like a tuxedo - a high quality one, too - but for whatever reason every single part of it was pure white. A white tie, white buttons, white inner vest… everything. The only parts of him that weren’t that sterile white were his skin and his golden eyes, shining as if lit from behind.

Sato was equally stunning, outfitted in a golden dress that drifted down to the floor. The dress seemed to shimmer and shine in the light, glitter strewn about like stars. She wore a pair of golden studs in her ears, several shades darker than her bright yellow eyes, and her hair was artfully arranged around her head, framing her face perfectly, almost reminiscent of a halo. 

The most remarkable thing about the entire scene, in Akira’s eyes, was how genuinely happy they looked. There was no trace of fatigue, or anger, or sadness, or anything else on their faces. They were just happy. 

Akira’s eyes drifted to the plaque. “Marriage.”

“Well, that confirms our suspicions,” Makoto said. Akira just stared at the diorama in silence. “Everybody, there’s a door off to the side here. Do we want to look in there, or go further in this room?” 

“We don’t have a choice, I’m pretty sure.” Futaba waved her hand, Al Azif appearing behind her for a flash before disappearing. “Skull, get over here!”

“What’s up?” Ryuji asked, jogging over.

“Run really fast that way!” Futaba pointed further down the hall.

“... What? Why?” 

“Just do it!” Futaba insisted. Ryuji shrugged and took off running.

“What do you exp- ow, ugh, effin’-” Ryuji collided against nothing with a thud and staggered backwards. He walked back to Futaba, newly-stained gloves clutching a very broken nose. “Why’d you make me do that?!”

“Sorry!” Futaba looked genuinely apologetic, hands up in the air. “I didn’t think it’d be a solid wall! I thought you’d just get turned around!” Ryuji just pouted while Ann held up her hands, green healing magic coating them in a bright glow.

“Come on, let me see that, Skull.” 

Akira ignored Ann’s fussing over Ryuji. Instead, he stretched a hand out in front of him and walked slowly over to where Ryuji had come into contact with solid air. 

“It really is solid,” Akira remarked, placing a hand against the empty space. He tried to reach out and grab at the invisible wall, but it was smooth, rebuffing any attempts to find purchase. Even his knife had no effect, the blade just stopping short no matter how much pressure he put on it. 

“Is it safe to be doing that?” Makoto asked, and, as though answering her, an alarm started ringing in the distance. She sighed.

Akira waved a hand, but as the Thieves began to disperse, the same Shadows he had seen before rose from the ground with a roar. Behind them, the marriage diorama sunk into the ground. They were surrounded. 

Joker grinned. About time.

Without skipping a beat, he pulled out his gun and fired a warning shot at the Shadows. They growled, and the inky black congealed and shattered, revealing the true form underneath. Joker’s stance didn’t falter, but bile rose in his throat unbidden.

Each Shadow split apart into two separate creatures. The first was a hulking mass of writhing purple clouds that gyrated around a single glowing orb, which seemed to pulse - or beat - erratically. A single tendril extended to the ground, almost like a tree trunk, but it curled in on itself and vibrated in place. Around the creature formed and dissipated what looked like eyes, each remaining just long enough to blink a single time before vanishing back into the eddying smoke.

Adorned in a flowing white robe bound with ropes, the other Shadow hovered an inch off the ground. The head was bound with three ropes, one each where the mouth, eyes, and nose would be. It seemed to flicker at high speeds, giving Joker the start of a headache if he stared at it too long, but there didn’t appear to be anything under the dressing. The ropes binding the creature revealed upon closer inspection that they left no impression on the fabric, even though they were seemingly drawn taut. 

“Oracle, any tips?” Joker called. He stepped back to join the other Thieves in the protective circle around their navigator and placed a hand on his mask.

“Gimme a boost, Skull!” At Futaba’s request, Ryuji turned and cupped his hands low to the ground. Futaba stepped into them and he sent her soaring into the air, putting her in prime position for Al Azif to form around her. The ship zoomed up towards the distant ceiling, trying to get out of the danger zone. “I’ve never seen these things before. Distract them while I scan!”

One of the cloudy creatures lashed out a tendril at Futaba’s ship, grasping at its edge. Ann swatted at it with her whip, but it passed through the smoke, barely even parting it. 

“Woah!” Al Azif floated up further, shaking to dislodge the tendril. “I don’t think physical attacks are gonna work on that smoke! Aim for the core!” Joker aimed and pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced the core, the creature lurching backwards.

_“Tek..."_ the thing hissed, a pungent yellow liquid leaking from it and dripping to the ground. The robe beside it rose into the air and began to scream, a horrible piercing sound that ripped into his head and tore it open. Joker gritted his teeth - god, that _hurt_. All four of the robes surrounding them moved in sync, each releasing the same piercing howl that echoed all around, bearing down on them with a horrible weight. 

Joker raised his gun and fired another shot, aiming for the robed creature. The bullet sliced through the air, but mere centimetres before it collided with the creature, the robes flickered and vanished. As the creature disappeared, the screech stopped and the air in the room lifted - but it returned as quickly as it left, the prior intensity doubled. 

“God,” Futaba hissed in pain, “I don’t know how, but that noise is raising the air pressure around us! Can anybody do anything about it?”

Ann stepped forward, sweat dripping down her face as she pushed against an invisible burden, jaw set and eyes burning. “Blazing Hell!” Célestine formed behind her, hair whipping around and arcing fire into the enemies. The smoke cloud creatures hissed and retreated, their noxious purple smoke catching alight, but the clothed figures were barely singed. A light smattering of ashes was the only sign the fire had even touched them. 

“Fire isn’t doing the trick on that thing!” 

Joker narrowed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Ann bought them time, so he needed to think. A weakness. What could he find?

“Joker, what do you think?” Makoto asked, already astride Agnes. 

Joker flicked from robe to robe, trying to figure out what to do. It avoided his shot like nothing, but it didn’t disappear for Ann’s fire. Why was that? 

“Mona, blow everything away.” Without a second of delay, Morgana and Diego raised their blades in tandem, wind billowing out and around them.

The belaboured cloud creatures hissed again, a chant in tandem that Joker couldn’t hear over the roaring winds. Despite the gale buffeting the room, the robes barely seemed ruffled, as if it was nothing more than a passing breeze. A cloud of ash whipped into the air, and… 

“I’ve got it!” Joker yelled, grinning. He tore off his mask. _“Yoshitsune! Tear them apart!”_

In a moment, the samurai glimmered into existence, dual blades lashing out with red energy in all directions. The sound of cloth tearing echoed in their ears as three of the robes vanished and the fourth fell, shreds of cloth littering the ground around them. 

“That brought it down! Pass the baton to deal with those cloud things!”

Joker turned and clapped his hand against Yusuke’s. Fox tore off his mask, and his Persona burned into reality, thrumming with power. “Sever them, Gorokichi!”

The Persona raised his oversized cigar to his mouth with a scowl. A flash of light later, and the cigar tore into and through the surrounding Shadows. The yellow cores of the cloudy creatures collapsed, leaking yellow goo, and a full half of the robe fluttered to the ground abandoned. In a heartbeat, the Thieves encircled the remaining Shadow, guns out.

Joker stepped forward, placing his pistol under the robed creature’s chin, forcing the ‘face’ to look up at him.

He tilted the gun and fired a shot into the ground, the flash of gunpowder burning into the cloth. “Join me.”

 _“_ _Very well…”_ The robe shuddered and floated backwards, ropes coming undone and lashing at the air. _"_ _I am the great emperor of the depths, Nodens… I shall become your mask, Trickster.”_ Nodens blazed blue as it dissolved, fading into Joker’s conscience.

“Dude!” Ryuji rushed over and clapped Akira on the back. “That was sick!” 

Akira just fixed his windblown hair and laughed. “Thank Mona, not me. I wouldn’t have figured the trick out without him.”

“What trick?” Makoto asked.

“There was only one Nodens the whole time,” Akira explained. “It was just teleporting between the four locations. It stopped moving when I shot at it, so I figured I had to hit all four spots at once.”

Morgana puffed out his chest. “You’re welcome!” 

“What did Mona actually do…?” Ann asked, kicking at the yellow goo still on the ground.

“Mona’s Magarudyne got the ash from your attack off the robes,” Akira started, staring curiously at the goo. “Even though it looked like all four of them had ash, there was only one cloud of it in the air.”

“I would never have noticed that!” Haru gasped, replacing her mask. “Good job, leader!” 

Akira shrugged, grinning a little regardless.

“Shouldn’t this stuff disappear when the Shadows die?” Ann asked, dipping her whip into the goo. “What’s it still doing here?”

Futaba whirred over to the goo. A ray of light extended out from her ship, tractor-beaming the segmented yellow ball. Halfway up, the Shadow parts began to shake and shudder. 

“Woah! It’s not dead!” The light disappeared, goo splattering back on the ground. The two segments of the ball didn’t drop, though - they just hovered in the air, rotating unsteadily. Joker’s hand went to his knife, and everybody watched the hovering balls cautiously.

“Is it… gonna do anything?” Ryuji asked, pointing his club at the segments. 

Futaba’s shriek shattered the anticipatory silence like glass.

“Panther, behind you!” Joker turned on his heel, his heart stopping at the sight behind him. One of the bisected cloud creatures had wrapped itself around Ann’s head, purple steam seeping out of the segments. Ann fell to the ground, choking on the gas.

“Get the fuck off her!” Ryuji grabbed at the segments and ripped them off her face, mere seconds before a gust of wind tore through the hall and snatched the smoke away from her. Joker could vaguely hear shouts echoing behind him, but his vision was tunneled on Ann.

Ryuji threw the yellow balls to the ground, tearing his mask off and slamming into them with the prow of William’s ship time and time and time again, leaving dull yellow smears on the ground in their place.

Ann continued to cough on the ground, her short gasping breaths making Joker’s heartbeat return. He growled out Yoshitsune’s name and shredded the remaining segments into tiny pieces. 

“Is everybody okay?” he asked. He watched Morgana bound over to Ann and press a green hand to her side. She would be okay. He couldn’t quite make Ann’s expression out past Morgana’s small frame, but she slowly got to her feet, Ann gripping his shoulder tightly.

Akira went to turn away, but Morgana’s pained hiss kept him still. 

“Panther, what’s wrong?” Morgana forced out, Ann’s grip on his shoulder becoming visibly tighter. Akira blinked, and by the time he opened his eyes, Morgana was careening through the air. He slammed into the wall with a crash, sliding down and collapsing. Where the two had been Ann now stood alone, shaking, whip gripped so tightly her gloves looked like they were about to tear.

"Panther's mad! She can't tell friend from foe! Also, Mona’s out for the count!"

Joker sighed, switching to Fafnir and waving in Haru’s direction. Rage, huh? It wasn't a new status by any stretch of the imagination, and it wasn't really a dangerous one. Sure, it sucked to have your friend attacking you (and it could be a pretty major distraction) but it was easy enough to avoid somebody swinging a weapon around with no trace of grace or expertise. It was more of an issue that they lost a Persona user until they could heal the status. It only really hurt when it was a surprise. Sorry, Mona.

"Woah, what?" Futaba cried out, panic edging into her voice. "Joker, stay alert! I don't know what's wrong with Panther!"

Joker’s train of thought stalled, watching Ann almost collapse back down to her knees. She breathed in short, heavy bursts, visibly shaking. Joker fixed his gaze on her, taking in her every move.

She climbed to her feet, slow and deliberate, forcing herself to stand. Her shaking continued unabated, but her breath seemed to stabilise. Was that good?

Ann pulled her head back and released a guttural scream, her hands tightened into fists. No, not good. She turned to face Joker, her mouth a tight line and her eyes wild behind her mask. Joker stared in shock. This wasn't rage, was it?

Joker stared deep into her blazing golden eyes. No, this wasn't rage. This was something else. Something more. Her eyes overflowed with a burning _fury_ , the likes of which he hadn't seen since the time she held a man’s life in her hands and judged him wanting.

Ann slowly reached up a hand to her face, and Joker felt the pit of his stomach drop. This was bad. No, please let his instincts be wrong.

Ann's hand reached the edge of her mask, and her tightly-pressed lips contorted into what could almost be called a smile.

"Célestine!" Ann ripped off her mask, crushing it in her hand like a wad of paper. Flames blossomed from her grip, spreading and engulfing her in a cobalt torrent. A tight plait whipped out of the fire, trailing embers across the floor. Slowly the flames died down, revealing Célestine hovered above Ann, glowing with the heat of a furnace, air twisting and distorting around her. 

Fuck. 

Joker quickly scanned the area, brain working on overtime. He knew Ann’s range and her strengths, so he needed to-

“Panther?” Ryuji’s voice shook just slightly, but it was enough to snap Joker into action - and Ann, too.

“ **Inferno!** ” Ann cried, voice burning with magic, and Joker tore at his mask. Ryuji’s eyes were wide beneath his mask at the deluge of flame coming towards him, and Fafnir’s form shimmered into existence, coiled protectively around him. Joker heard a scream ringing out from beneath the metallic hide as the dragon lifted Ryuji in the air and _tossed_ him into the wall. He winced slightly at the impact. Sorry, Ryuji.

Joker took a deep breath, feeling the heat blazing around Fafnir echo to him. It was burning hot, and Joker could almost smell his flesh cooking even through his invulnerability. If Ryuji had been the target instead, or if he’d been caught by a stray lick of flame through Fafnir’s scales…

“Everybody, make distance! She’s aiming to kill!” Futaba cried out, and Ann’s head whipped up. Célestine rose, climbing up her doll men like a set of stairs. Célestine stared through one of Al Azif’s windows at the terrified girl inside.

“ _Let us see…”_ Célestine’s voice crooned, an enchanting lilt to her tone. “ _Oh, la la la, it seems the cards foretell your death. What a shame._ ” Célestine’s voice hardened. “ ** _Goodbye._** ”

Célestine’s hand opened, and a white hot flame burned in her palm. Slowly, she pressed it against Al Azif, and the metal began to burn and melt away, wads of molten steel dripping to the ground below. Futaba was completely still - a rabbit cornered by a Panther.

“Makarakarn!” Al Azif stopped burning, and Célestine turned, gum popping in her mouth. 

“ _Free you were born..._ ” Célestine looked around, finally meeting Lucy's defiant gaze. Haru stood beside her, matching her Persona in both intensity and determination. **_“_** ** _Free you will die._** ** _”_** Her hand whipped back, and on the ground, Ann stepped forward to face Haru.

 _**“**_ ** _ **I** nferno!_** _ **”**_ Both Persona and wielder cried in tandem, flames racing down towards Haru and Lucy. The two just stood still, watching the air crackle and burn in the spell’s wake. 

“Noir!” Makoto cried. 

Lucy laughed, stepping forward and holding her hand out daintily. She flicked her wrist, and her briefcase rippled and grew, slamming into the ground in front of the pair and blocking the flames with ease. Ann growled, lashing out with her whip, but it bounced harmlessly off the briefcase. 

_“This betrayal is forced, is it not, dear Célestine?"_ Lucy’s voice was high and dainty, but Joker could feel an edge that cut through the air and directly into his brain. _“_ _Your freedom is stolen, and your assault is useless.”_ Lucy waved a hand. The air around Célestine shone pink, and an ethereal hand grabbed her by the hair and threw her into the ground, stone shards splintering out from the impact. Ann’s body shook, and she cried out in pain as she collapsed alongside her Persona. “ _Oh, my apologies. That was rougher than I intended. My dear Haru, if you could?"_

Haru stepped forward, face resolute. Her hand sparkled, and she walked over to where Ann lay. “Amrita Shower,” she called, sprinkling the green dust over her. Immediately Ann froze, and Célestine shimmered, vanishing.

“Let’s…” Futaba’s voice was weak. “Let’s get to a Safe Room, everybody.”

* * *

“What the shit was that?!” Ryuji was pissed. “These things can effin’ take _control_ of us?”

“I guess so.” Ann’s voice quivered. Akira’s arms were around her, and she leaned into his embrace. “I…”

“It’s okay, Ann.” Makoto placed a hand on hers. “It could have happened to any of us.”

“That’s cheating. They’re not allowed to do that!” Futaba pouted, nestling her arm below the table, out of sight. She bumped into the table and winced, moving back a little bit.

“Well, clearly the rules have changed.” Akira pulled Ann closer. “We need to be careful now that we know this can happen. We got lucky that the other fight was over and we had time to focus.” 

The implication of what would’ve happened if the fight _hadn’t_ ended hung in the air, weighing heavily on them all.

“Oracle, do you have any idea of how we could avoid such a fate?” Yusuke asked, hand on the hilt of his blade. He looked around the room, as if expecting Shadows to burst out from every corner. If it happened again, Yusuke was ready to fight, but… Akira could still remember the searing heat of those flames. Yusuke would’ve been torched.

“I’ve been trying to figure it out, but it’s not easy.” Futaba waved her arm, froze, and waved her other arm, bringing up a screen. “I think those things are called Shoggoth? I’m not sure what causes them to do that. Maybe it’s just a thing they can do.”

“I hope not.”

“Joker, do you have any ideas?” Futaba looked up, hopeful.

“Hm…” Akira placed his chin on Ann’s shoulder, trying to think. “I’m worried that we cut it off early and that it could have been even worse.” He felt Ann sigh. “Panther, it’s okay if you need some time, but can you talk about what happened?”

“I…” Ann coughed. “Can I have a drink of something, first?” Akira rummaged around in his pack and brought out a cup of iced coffee. 

“Here you go.” 

Ann drank deeply before handing it back, steeling her shoulders. “It felt like something was crawling into my mind and taking the reins. It was like…” 

“You were being possessed?” Futaba suggested.

“Yeah, exactly.” Across the room, Makoto shuddered. “Like the thing was possessing me, even after it died. It told me I hated you all, and I needed to do whatever I could to destroy you.” Ann whispered.

“It really amped up your power levels, too,” Futaba murmured. “You don’t even know Inferno, and it was hitting like it was concentrated.” Ann nodded.

“So what do we do if we run into another one?” Makoto asked, sitting up and placing her hands on the table. “We need a plan.” 

“Throw Noir at it again?” Ryuji suggested. Haru gave a little wave.

“What if Noir gets possessed?” Makoto crossed her arms.

“... Throw Joker at it?”

“What if Joker gets possessed?” Makoto paused, thinking over the question she just asked.

“Then we’re fucked,” Futaba said. “We just lose unless we can cure him.”

“I’ll stay far away from Shoggoths.” Akira fought to keep his voice steady. That was… a scary thought. He couldn’t let that happen. “How is everybody feeling?”

He looked around the room, but nobody met his gaze. That was about how he felt too. 

“I think we should head back for now...“ Haru murmured. The group trailed out in silence.

* * *

_9/17. Evening_

“Well, that effin’ sucked.” 

The Thieves were gathered around Akira’s bedroom, a full half of them struggling to stay upright. Exhaustion hung around the room like smoke after a house fire. 

Ann, slumped at Akira’s desk, groaned. “Can we never see those things again?” she asked, plaintive. 

“I’m glad we haven’t seen them before, but…” Makoto looked over to Morgana. “Why were they so dangerous? I didn’t expect this Palace to be so hard.”

Morgana leapt off Akira’s bed and climbed on the table in the centre of the room. “I’m not entirely sure, but I can make a few guesses.”

“Ooh!” Futaba crawled out from under the bed. “Time to explain, Mona!”

“Well…” Morgana’s tail flicked out as he stretched. “There are a few different factors in what makes a Palace get stronger. First of all, locale matters. If the Palace is over all of Japan, or somewhere people think about a lot, it’s going to attract a lot of strong Shadows.” Morgana looked around, waiting for nods before going on. “Another big thing is the ruler - or rulers, in this case - of the Palace. The more well-known they are, the more Shadows flock to their Palace.”

“But none of those apply here, do they?” Makoto asked.

“You’re right!” Morgana clapped his front paws together. “That’s where we get to the last two - competition and age. If a Palace is one of the only ones in the area, all the local Shadows will flock to it. The Metaverse isn’t exactly one-to-one with the real world, but it’s fairly close. And, as we learned,” Morgana gestured to Akira, “it’s deserted around here, so all the violent Shadows anywhere near Inaba are going to come to this Palace. And…” Morgana trailed off, looking meekly in Akira’s direction.

“... Age?” Akira asked, mouth suddenly filled with a bitter taste.

“If.. If a Palace has been around for a long time, Shadows aren’t going to leave it once they’ve found it. Unless the Palace is destroyed or the Shadows are forcibly removed, they’re going to stay there, and they’re going to feed off the distortion. That’s…” Morgana looked down. “I think that’s why the Shadows in there were so dangerous. They’ve been there for a long time.”

The air was heavy.

“Hold up, what?” Ryuji sprung to his feet. “You’re telling me his parents have been like this for _ages_?”

“I think!” Morgana was quick to defend. “I don’t know! This is just a guess!”

“Dude, what the eff? What’s wrong with your parents?” Ryuji waved his hands in the air. “I thought this was new!”

Akira tried to meet Ryuji’s eyes, but he couldn’t. He just… 

“Ryuji, give him a break, okay?” Ann spoke up. “It doesn’t matter. We still don’t even know why they have a Palace.” 

Ryuji sat down, scowling.

“Are we going back in tomorrow?” Makoto - thankfully - changed the topic. “We still need to do a lot more investigation before we can make a decision on anything. It’s a holiday tomorrow, so we have time.”

“Akira, what do you think?” Yusuke’s voice was soft. “It is your decision to make.”

“... I need to know the truth.” 

* * *

“Oh! Joker!” Futaba threw a ball of paper at his head. “I almost forgot to look at your new guy! Switch to him real quick.”

Akira picked up the ball of paper and threw it back at her before he actually processed the request. “... Would you be able to look at him right now?”

“Yeah, of course.” Akira looked around the room, petitioning both Makoto and the wall to make sure he wasn’t just an idiot.

“Are you saying you can see our Personas in the real world, Futaba?” Makoto asked, putting her cup of coffee down on the desk with a thud.

“Wait, you guys didn’t know?” Futaba looked shocked. “Of course I can see them! It’s not like Al Azif just _turns off_ when I’m out here.” She waved a hand around for emphasis.

“So… can you sense Persona users?” Joker had to know more about this. How had it never come up?

“No, not that. How do I explain it...” Futaba clicked her tongue, thinking. “I can only see you guys because I’ve already fought with you, so I know what I’m looking for. Anyway! I wanna see him! Switch for me, Joker!”

Akira watched, mildly baffled, as Futaba’s eyes glazed over. He flipped through his Persona lineup and brought Nodens to the forefront of his mind, chuckling as Futaba did a wiggly little dance.

“Ooh! This is a strong boy! Resists all magic, though he’s got a big weakness to physical… Oh, here’s that scream thing it did…” Futaba rattled off a few more words and numbers that Akira wasn’t really tracking, more distracted by how cheerful she was doing it - and the fact that she could do it at all.

On a whim, Akira decided to _focus._

_Blue. A lot of blue. Too much blue._ He blinked, knocked out of his Third Eye from surprise.

“Woah, all of your Personas just jumped. You okay, Akira?” Futaba’s eyes were still a little unfocused, pointing well above his head. 

“Yeah, it’s just…” Akira _focused again._

_This time, he was prepared, and he watched blue flood the room. The familiar card fluttered over the Hermit’s head, but more than that, something floated around it. A familiar pyramid hovered in the air, outlines drawn in a dark navy and awash in a beautiful azure. Tendrils extended out from the pyramid, gentle and friendly, but reaching out towards him all the same. He placed a hand on a tendril, and it recoiled at his touch._

_“Woah!” Futaba’s voice was both muffled and the most clear he’d ever heard, echoing in his head slightly. “Oh, that feels weird!” One of the tendrils reached out to him again, poking at his hand, and he grabbed at it. The tentacle froze, and blue expanded and blue shot out and blue and blue and blue_

Akira staggered back, heat shooting through his skull. He heard a scuttling of feet, and in a second, an orange blur filled his vision. “Are you okay?!” The orange was high and panicky. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, oh my god-” Akira clapped a hand over the orange’s mouth. A muffled “mrmph” informed him he didn’t miss his mark.

“It’s okay, Futaba,” Akira breathed, “just give me a moment, okay?” He lifted his hand and Futaba was quiet. He unsteadily climbed to his feet, hands shaking as they pushed his weight off the bed, and shuddered all the way over to his water bottle.

After taking a second to recover, he came back and sat down on the bed. “What just happened?”

“I… uh… um…” Futaba clearly didn’t know what to do with her hands, which cycled between her hair, her mouth, and the bed beside her rapidly. “I maybe might have just maybe a little bit lashed out when you grabbed my Persona and almost accidentally gave you a direct hit to the brain?”

Makoto - who Akira had forgotten was there - coughed. “Are you two okay over there?”

“Sorry, Makoto!”

* * *

_9/17. Late Night_

Mitsuru had no clue when she started looking forward to her dinners - interrogations - with Sae Niijima, but - slumped over a table with a glass of wine in her hand - the realisation hit her alongside Sae’s laughter.

“Honestly, Mitsuru-san, I can see the problem.” Sae sipped at her own drink, the most relaxed Mitsuru had ever seen her. “It sounds like you’ve been working with too many stuffy suits as of late. I’ve had more than my fair share of run-ins with them myself.”

Mitsuru chuckled, tracing the edge of her glass with her finger. “How would you suggest dealing with them, then?” 

Sae shrugged. “I quit my job and became a defense attorney. Feel free to try it if you’d like.”

“I suppose that would be easier with a sudden change of heart,” Mitsuru joked, raising her eyebrows at the woman. 

Sae rolled her eyes. “And here I thought we could just enjoy dinner for once.”

“My apologies.” Mitsuru felt as if her joke hadn’t been received properly. “I’m not going to pressure you to talk. Honestly, my time with you has been a welcome departure from dealing with bureaucrats.” 

“And mine too,” Sae said, raising her glass. “I’ve never enjoyed an interrogator’s company quite so much.” 

The two clinked their glasses against one another, and after a long sip, Mitsuru spoke. “I don’t mean to pry - this is personal, not professional, when I ask this - but do you believe the Phantom Thieves are just?”

“Is there a reason for your asking, Mitsuru-san?” Sae’s gaze was piercing, but Mitsuru didn’t challenge it. 

“To be honest…” She debated with herself. Sae, as likeable as she was, was supposed to be an informant. She shouldn’t reveal too much information, but… A gentle push from Artemisia decided it for her. “I have reason to believe I have some degree of familiarity with their methods.” Nothing about Sae’s posture changed, but her jaw tightened. “I might be able to protect them.”

“Protect them, huh?” Sae’s voice was bitter. “It’s a little late for that.”

* * *

_9/18. Morning_

Akira woke up with a start when something fell on his face. He tried to sit up, but abandoned that plan the moment he remembered that he was currently acting as a pillow to three (and a half, judging from the warm ball of fur pressed against his leg) separate Phantom Thieves. 

Ryuji’s head was on his chest (was that comfortable?), Makoto had his arm in an iron grip, and Ann’s head was on his stomach, arms wrapped around him. It was…

A little sweaty, honestly. At least he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Nothing could have convinced him to disturb any of them. They looked positively _adorable_ asleep like that.

He’d… missed this. A lot. In the month leading up to him returning to Inaba, this - or something close - had become the norm, and he’d been forcing himself to ignore the void since. If only he could just stay with everybody all the time.

Even if he didn’t have to move back to Inaba, though, it wasn’t as if the Thieves would constantly be at his beck and call. Some of them didn’t even live in Tokyo right now. 

It’d still be a damn better shot than Inaba would be, that’s for sure.

… It was really hard to dwell on the negative when Ryuji was snuggling into his chest. Ryuji was a ball of fucking sunshine. 

… A ball of sunshine that snored. 

Something buzzed on the ground beside him. He then proceeded to spend a full two minutes figuring out how to reach his phone without compromising his position as pillow. Futaba huffed from across the room, walked over, dropped it on his face (again?), and crawled back to wherever she came from.

_futababa: ur awake right_

_futababa: yeah yeah we get it ur having the time of ur life being cuddled right now_

_futababa: uuuuugh answer me_

_futababa:（；¬＿¬)_

_futababa: alright i’ll do it for u_

_futababa: making me get up from my comfy spot_

_futababa: u owe me curry for this_

_Joker: Can you blame me? You can see them!_

_futababa: yeah yeah i get it loverboy_

_Joker: Remind me to take you to Marukyu Tofu today._

_futababa: !!!!!!!!!!_

_futababa: oh my god_

_futababa: oh my god is it weird if i bring stuff for her to autograph_

_futababa: will u let me meet her really for real_

_futababa: fshjjskjsdkjsafhas_

_Joker: I can hear you hyperventilating from across the room, you know._

Akira heard a sharp intake of breath. 

_futababa: oops_

_Joker: … Please breathe, too._

Akira heard a sudden exhale. Oh, Futaba.

_futababa: im just excited_

_futababa: leave me a lone_

_Joker: I’m almost certain you’re the one who was looking to talk to me?_

_futababa: oh right_

_futababa: im boooooored_

_Joker: How can you be bored? You brought your laptop, didn’t you?_

_futababa: yeah but_

_futababa: i set it to process some shit last night and i dont wanna interrupt it_

_Joker: Process?_

_futababa: that super secret 2012 inaba related stuff_

_Joker: … Oh, I forgot entirely about that._

_Joker: How is that going?_

_futababa: i got through some of the encryption but this is like_

_futababa: encryption on encryption on encryption_

_futababa: still not sure i got it right the first time lmao_

_Joker: That’s worrying to hear. Is it really that complicated?_

_futababa: yeah_

_futababa: its been going faster w/ metaverse back up tho_

_Joker: How so?_

_futababa: i can use big al as a computer and damn hes good_

_Joker: … You can use your Persona to hack?_

_futababa: cant u_

_Joker: I mean, maybe?_

_futababa: that was a joke_

_futababa: tho u probably could if u knew how_

_Joker: Are you sure that’s safe?_

_futababa: as long as nobody does their weird brain magic and grabs him yeah i think its safe_

_Joker: I didn’t mean to!_

_futababa: (¬_¬)_

_Joker: But if you’re bored, you could… go on a walk or something?_

_futababa: uh_

_futababa: no_

_Joker: You’ve been going on walks lately, haven’t you? Sumi told me you’ve been making progress._

_futababa: its not the walking!_

_futababa: i dont know this place :/_

_Joker: Oh, right. Sorry._

_Joker: I’ll show you all around a little more this morning._

_futababa: when r we doing palace stuff nyway_

_Joker: In the afternoon, after we’ve all had plenty of time to wake up and get some food._

_futababa: ok!_

_futababa: im still bored tho ://_

* * *

_9/18. Daytime_

Futaba wasn’t sure whether she was panicking or excited, but there was a positive cocktail of emotions spinning around inside of her, like a washing machine that used emotions made of alcohol to wash the clothing. Akira had assured her that not only was _Rise Kujikawa_ there, but she was _excited!_ To see her! 

She pinched herself. She was either having a really realistic dream, or she was awake. Either way, she was absolutely down with it. She was meeting Rise Kujikawa! In the flesh! 

She jumped at Akira’s touch - a gentle push on her shoulder. Right. She should actually try to walk into the shop, rather than standing outside like a leaf in a cupboard.

* * *

Rise had seen her fair share of fans in her day, but something about the small orange-haired girl resonated with Rise on a _deep_ level. Just in case her hunch was right, Kouzeon was staying well and truly in her soul for the rest of the day. Probably a good idea anyway, considering what happened last time.

“I-” Rise’s internal dialogue was cut short by Futaba’s stammering. “I- Um- I’m uh- Pretty big- Fan.” 

Rise held in a laugh, watching her hands flail about. “It’s nice to meet you, Futaba-chan.” 

Futaba’s face turned beet red.

The group coming in behind her didn’t seem likely to perform much better.

* * *

“I’m glad to see somebody responsible has been keeping an eye on Akira-kun,” Rise laughed, smiling warmly at Makoto. Makoto did her best not to blush. She had never been one for idols, but she _was_ one for pretty girls. 

“I do my best,” Makoto said, clutching Haru’s hand. She wasn’t actually sure why she was holding her hand, but it was soft (and warm), so Makoto wasn’t going to stop any time soon. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Kujikawa-san.” Haru exclaimed, stepping forward. “Akira-kun has said such nice things about you!”

“Has he, now?” Rise smirked at Akira, who placed a hand on his neck, looking away. “I’m glad to hear it! And please, call me Rise. Any friend of Akira-kun’s is a friend of mine.” Haru bowed. 

Makoto was a little in awe of her composure, but maybe she was just less composed than usual. She _was_ fairly tired after yesterday - but that was nothing a good cup of coffee couldn’t fix.

* * *

“I’ve just been listening to Sapphire on repeat!” Ann gushed. “It’s so pretty!”

“I’m glad you like my music, Ann-chan,” Rise said, demure. Makoto was pretty sure she felt her heart give out when Rise batted her eyelashes. 

“Are you thirsty, Makoto?” Akira asked. She glared at him, feeling her cheeks burn a little. Risette was an idol. It was her _job_ to be hot. Akira didn’t need to make fun of her over that.

“Do you want a drink, Makoto-chan?” Rise asked. Makoto forced out a _yes please_ , and Rise disappeared into the back. 

The instant she was out of sight, Makoto turned to Akira and hissed. “Don’t say that!”

“Why not?” He didn’t even try to hide his grin. “I think it’s a valid question.”

“You know perfectly well-” Makoto cut herself off and settled with just glaring at him with the full might of a Niijima. Akira didn’t even flinch, but Makoto was fairly sure she saw Ryuji recoil out of the corner of her eye. 

“Oh, is this a spat, loverboy?” Rise returned with a glass of water and a giggle.

“Not at all.” Akira winked. Rise winked back.

“She calls you loverboy?” Ryuji jumped in. “Dude, for real?”

“Of course I do!” Rise finger-gunned at him. “You’re part of the reason why, you know.”

Ryuji’s mouth opened, then closed, and opened again. “Wait.” Ryuji wheeled around, turning to Akira. “She _knows_?”

“Yeah.” Akira nodded.

“She knows about us being-”

“Together, in a romantic relationship,” Makoto finished. Ryuji’s mouth promptly shut.

“You even finish each other’s sentences,” Rise laughed, ignoring Ryuji. “How cute.”

“Oh, no, we’re-” Makoto waved her hands around awkwardly, looking at Ryuji. “The two of us, we’re not…” 

“Yeah, like, we just- well. Uh.” Ryuji stumbled over his words, apparently uncomfortable with revealing the intricacies of their relationship to a random celebrity.

“Gah, we need to bring out the chart!” Futaba started rummaging around in Akira’s bag, pulling out a cat and a few books in her delve into its depths. Akira vaulted over his chair to stop her.

“So anyways, Rise-chan, I don’t suppose I could get your autograph-” Ann nearly shouted, face pale. Makoto had to agree. Nobody outside of the Thieves needed to see the chart. Nobody _anywhere_ needed to see that chart. There were… private details on it. Very private details. They needed to get rid of the chart. Forever. 

Makoto ignored Rise’s laughter to the best of her ability. Keeping the Thieves in line was a Sisyphean ordeal.

* * *

_9/18. Afternoon_

“It’s not like she’d judge you.” Futaba pouted.

“The chart is our secret, Futaba.” Akira’s voice brimmed with mirth. “Not everybody is as open as you are.”

Futaba just stuck her tongue out at him, continuing to pout. Akira tousled her hair, ignoring her attempts to tilt her head and bite at his hand. Makoto just shook her head.

“Can we just go into the Palace already?” 

“About time!” Ryuji pumped his fist in the air. “I’ve been restless all day!”

“Are we all ready to go?” Akira asked, standing up straight. After everybody agreed, he held out his phone. “Let’s go.”

 _“_ _Beginning Navigation_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo, another chapter down! As per usual, not a clue on update scheduling. The entirety of the next chapter (and a lot of the chapter after that) are drafted, but I go through a very thorough editing process in order to make it not terrible, so who knows how long that'll take. 
> 
> Hoo boy, there is a lot of Palace left in this Palace. If it was underwhelming this chapter (which it might not have been, I dunno) don't worry, we've got plenty left. 
> 
> Additional note, for those of you who are unaware: You can make a Fafnir, in P5R, that repels or drains every single element. Joker has this, because it was my personal go-to Persona for late-game, and he will use it frequently. 
> 
> Futaba, probably: Kudos, comment and subscribe


	11. Works in Progress

_9/18. Afternoon_

“How far are we through this Palace, Oracle?”

“I’m not really sure,” Futaba answered, looking around the Safe Room. “I thought we made good progress last time, but I’ve been scanning ahead and I can’t really tell how much we have left. It’d help if we could actually _find_ our dungeon map.”

“We’ll keep an eye out,” Akira offered. “For now, we need to get back to the Marriage diorama and then go through the side door, correct?”

“Yeah. Hey, everybody, catch!” Futaba threw a few cans around the room. Akira inspected his.

“Amrita Spray?”

“Yep!” Futaba sat up, proud of herself. “I went through our supplies last night and organised it all. Give somebody a spray and it should knock any status effects out of them.”

Ryuji, examining the can in his hand, went to press the nozzle. Before he could actually press down, a whip lashed out, grabbing it from his hands.

“Don’t spray it in here, Skull!” Ann scolded. “I don’t want to smell it right now!”

“Oh, right.” Futaba clicked her fingers. “Try not to spray it when we don’t need to cure anything. Not only is it a waste of resources, but I’m pretty sure it knocked me out for a few minutes when I tried it last night.” Futaba didn’t seem to notice the host of eyes suddenly on her. “Conserve it!”

“So…” Ryuji glanced around the room. “We gonna bring what she just said up, or is that a ‘later’ problem?”

“Huh?”

* * *

As they stepped through the door, a bright, sterile white seared into Akira’s eyes. He raised his arm, hiding his face behind his coat.

“Eff me, that’s bright,” Ryuji complained.

Akira squinted, doing his best to look around the room. Where the Palace so far had been mostly made of marble, the walls and floor of this side area were made of a sleek reflective metal.

Complicated charts covered the walls and ominously smoking beakers were littered randomly across tables that left little room to walk. It was the spitting image of what he - and his parents, apparently - thought a laboratory would look like. However, the Shadow seated in the middle of the room gave him something better to think about than the specifics of laboratory design.

“Joker!” Ryuji whispered. “What are we going to do about that guy?”

“We should avoid it if we can,” Akira whispered back. “Pass it on to everybody else.”

A snap of metal came from the centre of the room, and the Shadow groaned. “ _Again? Why must the Curators require such perfection?_ ” It tossed the metal piece to the side and it rattled off the desk, evaporating into wisps before hitting the ground.

Akira took a deep breath and _focused_ , scanning the room carefully. Small spaces lit up in blue under tables and at their corners, the Shadow itself highlighted in deep red. Akira motioned forwards, pointing to the corners and silently arranging them in a safe pattern.

“Follow my lead. Two at a time,” Joker breathed, melting into the shadows

Joker paused at the Shadow’s desk, pressed against the baseboard, and listened. The Shadow swore under its breath and tossed another piece to the ground. It hit the ground beside Joker, just barely missing his arm. Before it wisped away, he saw nubs protruding from all sides of what could be graciously called an orb. He continued moving, mentally reviewing the object’s contours as he went.

Joker inched the door open, watching the Shadow with an eagle eye for any movement, and slowly crawled his way through. After confirming the other side of the door was safe, he stood, surreptitiously waved back to the Thieves, and took up his sentry position.

As Makoto and Futaba followed the path he set out, he _focused_ again, staring at the Shadow and its creations. The object it was currently working on was unbalanced, round at the base and tapering off into a knifepoint tip. He watched as the creature pulled a foaming beaker out of seemingly nothing, and, after an eerily human yawn, dipped the object inside.

The Shadow held it in the beaker for a good fifteen seconds or so, engrossed in observing the results, before it pulled out a sparkling serrated edge. It whished it around in the air, shook its head, and placed it down in a growing pile of objects beside itself. Akira had assumed the pile to be scrap, but a closer examination revealed…. a cylinder with a pyramid jutting out from inside it, something that almost looked like a dog’s leg, a small knife, and an object that - for some reason - reminded him of Jose.

The Shadow gave a guttural growl and Ryuji, pressed against the desk, froze. Akira’s eyes found Ryuji’s, the beginnings of panic showing, but Akira shook his head and put a finger to his lips. The Shadow finished its stretch and returned to its work, and Akira gave him the go-ahead to continue his creep.

As soon as they were through the door, Ann turned to the group. “Did you guys see what that Shadow was making?”

“I couldn't figure it out, ” Akira replied, crossing his arms. “What was it?”

“I don’t know! It sorta looked like…” Ann slowly tapped her whip against the ground, visibly thinking. “It sort of looked like…”

“A chicken drumstick,” Yusuke finished.

“... It did!” Akira could see the lightbulb go off above her head, but something about it didn’t feel quite right. “Like, it had that chicken leg shape! Why would it be…?”

Before he could voice his disagreement, Makoto spoke. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out later, everybody,” she said. “Let’s just keep on going for now.”

* * *

“Show me your true form!” Joker ripped at the Shadow’s mask. As the gunk coagulated into the form of Shoggoths, pre-prepared magic burned into it, melting the golden cores like ice cream in a furnace. The group gave the remaining ashes and scorch marks a wide berth.

“Now, let’s see what it was guarding.” Morgana ran forward, picking at the door’s lock. “Get in here, guys.”

Akira stepped in to find… oh.

“Is this a bedroom?” Haru asked, looking around. Akira followed her gaze from the bed to the Featherman posters on the walls, finally landing on a trembling silhouette under the bed.

“Who’s there?” Morgana asked, holding his blade out as a warning.

“Mona, they look scared!” Ann scolded, crouching down. Morgana lowered his sword, but didn’t put it away. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Akira was silent.

“Everybody, step back a little. Whatever they are, they don’t seem to trust us.” Makoto waved everybody back.

“Is that safe?” Ryuji muttered. “We don’t know what that thing is…”

“Why are you here?” The unmistakable voice of a child - and a young one, at that - tottered its way out from under the bed. “What do you want?”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Ann’s voice was soft. “We’re your friends, okay?”

“I don’t believe you.” Akira wouldn’t trust flashy strangers bursting into his room either. “Where’re Mom and Dad?”

“We can help you find them,” Ann offered, crawling forward a little. She laid on her stomach, apparently trying to see eye-to-eye with the kid. “What’s your name?”

“If you could help me find Mom and Dad, you’d already know my name,” the child retorted. “‘m not telling you anything.”

“We can’t see you under there,” Ann explained. “So we don’t know who you are. Will you come out here for us?”

“No.” Fair enough.

“Please?”

“Why should I?”

“Uh…” Ann glanced back at the rest of the Thieves, looking for help.

Futaba studied the room and, noticing some posters, lit up. “Do you like Featherman?” she asked.

“Mhm.”

There was a moment of pause.

“Wanna come out and talk to me?” Futaba offered.

Another pause. “No.”

“Okay!” Futaba bounded over and jumped on the bed. The kid and bed squeaked in unison. “So, what season are you watching? What’s going on? Tell me everything.”

“Um…”

“Oracle, isn’t that a little much?” Makoto asked.

The child was quick to interrupt. “No, it’s okay! I can talk!” Before anyone else could speak up, he continued speaking. “Uh… so I’m not really sure what you mean by season, but in the latest episode, they had to open the Gate of Hell, and now we’re really worried about Owl and Condor.”

“The Gate of Hell?” Yusuke asked, interest piqued. “That sounds like quite the illustrious premise. Is that truly what the show featured?”

“Um…” he hesitated, “... Yeah! I’m not lying!”

Akira had to agree that half of those words were confusing. It took him a minute too.

“Oh, I remember that series!” Futaba bounced a little. “That one’s really good! Most of the fights were a little cheesy, but the characters were really fleshed out, and the romances almost made me cry the first time I watched it! The ending was really sad, though…”

“You’ve seen the ending?!” Immediately, the child scrambled out, black hair flopping around as he climbed to his feet and dusted himself off. “What happens? Do Hawk and Swan marry each other?”

“That’s a secre-'' Futaba's words froze in her mouth as she looked at the child in front of her. Akira stepped back a little. A mess of black hair. Dull gray eyes. A serious expression, well beyond his years.

“Akira?!”

“Oh!” The child grinned. “You do know my name!”

“Of course we do, Akira,” Ann forced out, looking uneasily between the child and their leader. “We’re your friends.”

“Thanks, Kitty.” The child nodded, immediately turning back and forgetting all about her. “Now, Goggles, tell me about Hawk and Swan!”

“Kitty?” Ann looked offended.

“Goggles?” Futaba looked delighted.

“Huh?” The child looked between them before clapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh! I didn’t mean to call you that!”

“It’s okay, Akira, we don’t mind,” Ann grinned. “You can call me Kitty if you like!”

“Mom and Dad told me not to nickname people like that anymore, but I forgot…” Little Akira looked forlorn, staring at the ground. “I’m really sorry…”

“Eh, don’t sweat it, kid.” Ryuji stepped up, clapping his hands. Little Akira stepped back, unsure of the new person. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m your friend, dude.”

“You are?” Little Akira asked, looking him up and down.

“Heck yeah I am!” Ryuji crouched down. “I know I might look big and scary, but it just makes me all the better at keeping little tykes like you safe, y’know?”

“Skull, are you sure…” Makoto began, but she stopped the instant Little Akira stepped forward.

“I like you!” he decided, poking Ryuji’s mask. “What’s this for?”

“Makes me look cool, don’t ya think?” Ryuji laughed, waving away the inquisitive fingers. “Now, how are you?”

“Huh?”

“How do you feel?” Ryuji asked. “What’re your parents like? What’s it like livin’ here?”

Little Akira squinted at him.

“You don’t hafta tell me anything you don’t wanna, though!”

“Why do you want to know?”

Ryuji chuckled. “Because that’s what friends are for!”

“Well…” Little Akira kicked at the ground. “I dunno. Haven’t seen my parents much lately.”

“Really? Why not?”

“They’re busy.” Little Akira sat on his bed, next to Futaba. “I only really talk to them when we’re in the car or whatever for school, ‘cause they’re working on getting…” He screwed his face up, trying to remember. “A… permission from work.”

“A promotion?” Ryuji suggested.

“Oh, I knew that! Promotion! Sorry!”

Akira watched Ryuji’s face tighten a little. “It’s okay, kid. We all make mistakes sometimes.”

“I don’t!” Little Akira protested. “Or, well, I barely ever do! And only once, I promise!”

“Don’t you think we should get going?” Joker asked, staring resolutely out the door.

“Oh! You look cool!” Little Akira clapped his hands and pointed at Joker. “I wanna wear that!”

“I’m sure you will someday.” Ryuji gave Little Akira a pat on the head and stood up. “Joker says we gotta go, but you stay safe, alright?”

“Okay!” Little Akira waved and crawled into bed. “See you all later!”

They all watched as Little Akira tucked himself in and immediately fell asleep. Akira walked out of the room first, feeling eyes boring into him from behind.

* * *

_9/18. ???_

The air was heavy in the Safe Room as the group sat in oppressive silence. Ever since their encounter with Little Akira, Akira’s neck prickled with the familiar sensation of somebody watching him.

Akira emptied his food bag in the centre of the table. Everybody could restore themselves as needed. He didn’t want to take charge right now, even if nobody else would step in for him.

“How are you, Joker?” Haru asked, her soft voice barely cracking the silence.

“I’m fine,” he responded. “Why wouldn’t I be fine? I’ve barely done any fighting.”

“I’m not talking about fighting, Joker.” She placed a hand on his arm, startling him a little. He hadn’t realised she was so close. “It’s not every day you meet a cognition of yourself.”

“At least this one didn’t get shot in the head,” Akira quipped. Haru’s hand tightened a little. “It was a joke, don’t worry,” he hastily added.

“I know, it’s just…” She looked away.

“Why are you all so quiet?” Akira asked, turning and looking around the room. Nobody met his eyes. “Stop walking on eggshells around this. It was just my parents’ version of me as a kid. It wasn’t even anything bad. We’ve seen way worse. Remember the cognitive Haru? Why is Little Akira different?”

“We’re not freaking out,” Ryuji protested.

“Then why are you all so quiet?”

“I can’t speak for everybody else,” Makoto murmured, “but I’m just trying to figure out what that meant.”

“It’s not like my parents aren’t going to have me in their Palace. You should have expected this.”

“I know, and I did.” Makoto waved her hands in the air. “I just didn’t expect it to be like... that!”

“What do you mean?” Akira wasn’t following. “It seemed normal to me.”

“I’m…” Makoto looked down. “I need more time to think about it. I’m still trying to work it out.”

“Hey, Joker,” Futaba interrupted, waving away a screen. “Little you would’ve been like, eight or something, right?”

“Probably?” Akira shrugged. “You’d have a better idea than I would.”

“Well, assuming you were watching Featherman as it came out, you should have been around eight or nine.” Futaba nodded to herself. “And if that’s true…”

“Care to share, Oracle?”

“Nope! Secret.”

Akira just sighed and took a swig of coffee. He really didn’t know what to do with his Thieves when they were this worried about nothing.

* * *

“Hey, there’s another door over here!” Morgana called. “It looks like it should be the way out to the first area!”

“About time,” Ryuji groaned. Akira had to agree.

Corridors and corridors of cold, claustrophobic metal had made for an uncomfortable expedition through the Palace. Not a single Shadow offered any useful information, but the vast majority worked on little metallic objects - none of which were big or well-crafted enough to identify. Aside from Little Akira, the whole section was desolate.

“This should be back into the museum, correct?” Makoto tapped the wall next to the door.

“Probably.” Akira had no idea. “We still haven’t found a map for this place.”

“Tell your parents to give out maps, Joker!” Futaba whined, poking him in the side several times. “Navigating is so much harder when we don’t know where we’re going.”

“I’ll try.”

* * *

“How much further in are we, Oracle?” Akira asked, gesturing at the displays around them. Everything in the room looked the same.

“I think the Marriage diorama is pretty far back there,” she answered, pointing backwards. “Do you know how long your parents were married when they had you? That’d help with my timeline here.”

Akira opened his mouth, expecting an answer to come to mind, but he blanked. “Not a clue,” he finally answered, realising all at once that he should probably know something as major as his parents’ anniversary. “Maybe they eloped.”

“Well, you’re born by now, so at least that much further ahead.” Futaba ran up to a display and placed a hand on it. A baby started crying. “See? That’s you!”

“Reminds me of you, Oracle,” Ryuji laughed. A pen hit him in the head. “Hey!”

“Focus, guys,” Makoto chided. “Oracle, which way should we go?”

“Follow me!”

* * *

Haru lingered at the back of the pack, just observing while everybody else examined the displays and swapped theories. Something about the recent dioramas struck a chord with her that was... uncomfortable.

Her time was better spent as a lookout, anyway.

Her job as a lookout (and Thief-watcher, though that one was self-assigned) made her the first to notice Akira acting… strange. He was just standing still, staring into the distance.

“Joker?” she asked. “Did you see something?”

Akira didn’t respond, hand outstretched. Haru peered in the direction he reached out to, distantly sighting another large display sitting on a stone plinth, but it was too far away for her to make any details out.

Without warning, Akira crouched. Haru panicked for a moment, remembering how Ann acted because of the Shadow, but surprise overtook her fears when he took off sprinting towards the diorama.

“Joker?!” she called. Without hesitating, she followed, a little shocked at his breakneck pace. Was he okay? “Everybody, follow me!”

She finally caught up with him when he came to a standstill, bare hand pressed against the glass.

Akira was a small and frail silhouette against the towering glass wall. Haru couldn’t put her finger on what was wrong, but a second glance connected the dots - his bare hand, tense against the glass.

As she got closer - close enough to actually see inside the display - blue flame washed over him, black tailcoat and red gloves settling back against his skin as if they’d never been gone. Haru heard his gloves stretch, the fabric hissing as his hand tightened against the glass.

An engine roared behind them, and Haru glanced behind her to see Makoto and Agnes heading in their direction. Taking confidence from the promised support, she relaxed her guard for a moment, looking around for what drew Akira in.

The room on the other side of the glass was cold, a bedroom empty of any personal touch. Haru’s eyes ran over the desk with neatly organised folders and textbooks, the empty walls, and finally reached the bed. She found somebody sitting on it, and a chill ran down her spine.

On the other side of the glass, sitting on his bed and staring through her, was Akira. He was dressed in casualwear, face bare and expression sombre.

“I…” Akira stared into the display. Haru gave him a moment, her gaze drifting to a small diorama sitting low to the ground. 'School' contained a black-topped figure next to a towering white one standing in front of a building. The white figure pushed the black-topped figure towards the building, which was overfilled with plain sticks.

Glass shattered, tearing Haru from her daze. She turned around, hand already at her weapon, just to find Akira standing as still as he had been before. She paused, processing, until she noticed the cracks running all along the glass wall. A low growl escaped him, and he raised his hand. A drop of liquid fell to the ground, and Haru realised that his glove was stained a deep red.

Akira smashed his hand against the cracked glass, shattering a large section of the wall. Shards ripped through the glove and into his skin, tearing it apart like tissue paper. He smashed again and again, destroying everything in reach. He kicked at the bottom of the glass, taking out a large piece below him and pushing a foot in the bedroom.

“Akira, stop it!” She didn’t even recognise her own voice as she ran forward, but a blur of black and white beat her to it.

“Diego, help him!” Morgana stood behind him, Persona rising into the air with a storm of green. Haru stopped, watching pink scar tissue stitch itself together under the ripped sections of his gloves.

Akira paused for only a moment, shaking off the green sparkles like they were nothing, and continued to force his way into the bedroom. He _roared_ \- a deep, low, almost guttural noise that echoed through her head as she raced in after him.

Akira raised his hand, pulling it back slowly. The fake Akira on the bed didn’t move, silently watching as his doppelganger slammed a fist into the side of his face. He was sent flying, rolling along the ground. His knees struggled under him as he lifted himself off the ground, pained coughs covering the floor in blood, but didn’t make any move to run as Akira approached him again. Akira pulled his foot back, and-

“Amrita Shower!” Haru ripped Akira away from his cognitive double, sending him tumbling across the room. Akira fell to the ground, eyes empty, and groaned.

“What…?”

Haru rushed over, helping him to his feet. “Are you okay? Come with me. I... don’t think this display is good for you.”

“Sorry, I don’t…”

Haru placed a finger over his lips. “Not now.”

* * *

_9/18. ??????_

Akira hissed as Makoto pulled shards of glass out of his hand. Healing spells were helpful, but they only accelerated the natural healing process of the body. He couldn’t blame Mona for healing him so hastily, but it had consequences.

It sure fucking hurt when Makoto had to pull each shard of glass out of his hand _individually._

“What happened to you, Joker?” she asked, trying to ease a particularly large piece from his hand.

“I - ow, shit - don’t really know,” he forced out. “I saw that display, and I just…”

He looked back to the display. Morgana, Ryuji, and Haru stood beside it, having a quiet conversation he couldn’t quite make out. Judging from the glances they shot in his direction, he had a pretty good idea of who they were talking about.

“You seemed interested in it even before you got over to it, though,” Makoto commented. Akira swore quietly as she got another piece of glass out. “Oh, sorry, that one was bigger than I thought.”

“No, it’s okay, I - ow, ow, ow - get it.” Akira winced. “It just felt like... something was calling to me.”

Makoto hummed to herself, looking into and through him. “We’ll keep that in mind, okay?”

“I’ll try not to do it again.”

“You better not.” Makoto emphasised her point by removing another sliver of glass. “From now on, we’re using a buddy system.”

It wasn’t a question. “Okay.” That was probably for the best. He didn’t want to lose it again.

“Preferably you’ll be with somebody who can heal statuses, of course,” Makoto murmured.

Joker didn’t say a word.

* * *

As they headed to the next Safe Room - likely their last for the day - Akira couldn’t help but notice the way the rest of the Thieves crowded around him. He felt a little hemmed in, stuck in the middle of a circle that seemed ready to pounce if he so much as shivered strangely.

He kicked his foot out, looking for a way to entertain himself as the protective circle waddled along. He slowed and the waddling came to a dead halt.

“Joker?”

“Are you alright, Joker?”

“Is something wrong?”

“Did you see something?”

Akira rolled his eyes. “There’s a glass shard in my heel, that’s all. I wanna get it out.” Honestly. You smash up a glass wall with your bare hands _once_ and they treat you like you’ll break if you so much as take a half step away from them.

_Their concern is not unwarranted. Thine actions were reckless._

Akira did his best to look unimpressed with his own brain.

_Shut it, Satanael. You aren’t even in the lead right now. Leave the criticism to Maria._

_My silence is not so easily won, Trickster. Do you plan to keep the truth hidden until thy cause is so grand as to fall?_

_Leave me alone or I’ll turn you into a knife again._

_As you command._

Akira shook himself back to reality. Everybody was staring at him again. “Sorry, did I stop walking? Got in an argument with a Persona.”

“Which one?” Makoto asked, eyes narrowed.

“Does it matter?” Akira deflected. Makoto didn’t say anything else, but he caught the way her eyes slid from his face to somebody behind him. “Let’s pick up the pace, everybody.”

* * *

“We barely made any progress!” Futaba complained, highlighting their pitiful route in red.

“We don’t know how large this place actually is, Oracle,” Akira murmured, “and you all need to get home.”

“I know this place is bigger than you think!” She zoomed in on the map and waved it in his direction. “This place has multiple levels, and we didn’t even finish the bottom layer. Are we just going to walk away from this?”

“We do need to get back, though…” Ann sighed. “I already had to cancel on a gig just to get here, my agency isn’t gonna like it if I skip out on anything else.”

“Besides, we haven’t even decided if we’re gonna finish this Palace,” Ryuji said, gesturing at Akira. “Whaddya say, leader?”

“I…” That was the golden question, wasn’t it?

“We haven’t seen enough to make a proper judgment,” Makoto snapped, the smallest hint of exhaustion leaking from her voice. “We haven’t even seen a verifiable distortion. So far, everything we’ve seen has just been organised memories.”

“Ain’t that a good thing, though? I mean, if nothing seems wrong with this place…”

“Then why does it exist?” Makoto had a good point.

“We haven’t even seen their Shadows,” Futaba commented. “I don’t think we can make a decision yet either.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, they’re right,” Yusuke muttered. “We lack context to determine the true nature of this creation. It would be foolish and irresponsible to simply leave now.”

“So what are we going to do?” Akira stood, focusing the team. “You guys can’t exactly spend that long here. Even if you figure out how to blow off all your responsibilities, my parents will be back in a few days.”

“Well…”

Nobody had an answer. He scanned their faces, fixing those who met his gaze with a fierce stare. “We can’t just keep sitting around and wondering. We need to make a decision.”

“I agree.” Morgana jumped up on the table beside him. “We don’t have the luxury of hoping this resolves itself, guys. There’s a reason for this Palace, and we need to find it.”

“Alright.” Haru stood. “Joker, I have a suggestion.”

“Shoot.” He was interested to see what Haru came up with.

“We don’t have a deadline of any sort, do we?” she asked, looking around for confirmation. “We can’t ignore it, but there’s no need to rush ourselves. I think we should try to come down for every weekend we can manage until we find an answer.”

“Where will we stay, though?” Makoto tilted her head to the side. “We can’t just force his parents out of the house every week.”

“There are plenty of locations to stay for a few nights around here. I’d be happy to pay for them.”

“You don’t really need to do that, Haru,” Ryuji said, looking away.

“I don’t need to, but I would _like_ to.” As light as her words were, Akira could hear the steel. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer in this.

“While I’m more than amenable to the plan…” Makoto clicked her fingers in front of Akira’s face, snapping him to attention. “First of all, we need you to agree to it.”

“I don’t have any issues with it,” he answered.

“Good.” Makoto sat back in her seat, cracking her knuckles. “If everybody is okay with that, we’ll aim to reconvene in Inaba once a week so we can spend a day on Palace investigation. Until then, we need to set up some rules.” She looked at Akira.

“What’s up?”

“You are not to enter the Palace without the rest of us.” The full force of the Niijima glare bore into him, and it took all his willpower to hold steady.

“I wasn’t going to…”

Makoto coughed. “Are you sure?”

“That would be reckless, dangerous and irresponsible.”

“Joker, I love you, and you have quite the proclivity for all of those.” Her arms were crossed now. “Mona, I’m going to need you to keep an eye on him for us.”

Morgana saluted. “Will do, Queen!”

“Additionally,” she added, “if not all of us can make the time for a week, we need to seriously consider whether we’re going to dive into the Palace that week.” Makoto’s gaze swept over the rest of the Thieves.

“Of course.” Yusuke nodded, a sombre expression on his face. “We can’t afford to take undue risk, particularly when the foes within this place make our strength a hindrance.”

“Hey, can we discuss this in the real world?” Futaba chimed in. “I’m hungry!”

A laugh rippled across the room, dispelling some of the tension, and they headed out.

* * *

_9/18. Evening_

Akira led the way into the real world. They’d picked up a habit since Okumura’s Palace of having somebody lead the way. Sticking your body halfway out of the Metaverse felt weird, but it was a better option than having a group of teenagers materialise into existence in front of - for example - a camera crew.

He looked around and, upon seeing the coast was clear, flicked a thumbs-up back into the Metaverse before stepping fully into reality. Morgana was the first to follow him out, leaping onto his shoulder and nearly knocking him to the ground.

“Hey,” he complained, “don’t do that!”

“Why not?” Morgana laughed, batting at his ear. “I’m not that heavy!”

“I wasn’t expecting it!” Akira tried to grab Morgana by the scruff of the neck, but he slithered around to his other shoulder.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Ryuji looked thoroughly unimpressed.

“ _Cat_ ching him, of course,” Akira finger-gunned at him. Ryuji decided to stare at the ground and show him a disapproving mop of hair instead of dignifying him with a response. “Hey, your roots are beginning to show, Ryuji.”

“Oh, are they?” Ryuji ruffled his hair. “Guess I’ll fix that soon.”

Akira glanced around. Was everybody out? It didn’t feel like it. They were still missing Haru and Makoto.

“Food!” Futaba cried, grabbing his arm and pulling him in the direction of his house. He rolled his eyes. The other two would catch up.

* * *

“Do you all have everything?” Akira picked up a shirt and tossed it at Ann.

“Hey, I was about to grab it!”

“You all have so much to keep track of,” he groaned, lifting his bed and picking a stray flash drive out from under it. “Futaba, I found it!”

“Where was it?!” A faint, petulant voice from across the house called back.

“Under my bed, like I told you to check!” He returned. He aimed, listening to the light thundering of footsteps, and tossed it the moment Futaba showed her face. “Catch!”

“Ah!” Futaba clapped her hands together in the air, a desperate attempt to seize the unexpected projectile. She looked proud of herself for a moment before she opened her hands and found them empty. “Shit.”

Makoto sighed, picked the stick up, and handed it to Futaba. “You’re children, all of you.”

“Whatever you say, _Mom!_ ” Futaba tapped Makoto on the head and ran off. Makoto put her face in her hands.

* * *

“Do we really gotta go?” Ryuji’s plaintive whine was echoed by the rest of the Thieves’ faces. “I mean…”

“You’ll be back next week, won’t you?” Akira put an arm around him, giving him a squeeze. “You can handle that much, can’t you?”

“Are my bags heavier than when I arrived?” Yusuke wondered, hefting his suitcase with one hand.

“Probably not!” Ann answered quickly, and Akira gave silent thanks to any benevolent gods out there that Yusuke took her lie at face value. They’d packed all the empty room in his suitcase that they could with food while he wasn’t looking. He would probably refuse it if he knew about it, but he was far too practical to try and return it when he got back to Tokyo. Akira had wanted to slip money in there too, but… well, Yusuke wasn’t very good with money.

On the rare occasions he managed to convince Yusuke to _accept_ money, it was gone in a matter of days. While Yusuke was always incredibly pleased about his new purchase - typically art supplies - he never quite got the concept of a ‘budget’ stuck in his head. Makoto had tried. She gave up when he sent them a picture of his third lobster.

“I hate to mention it, everybody,” Makoto sighed, “but if we don’t get a move on, we’re not going to make it to any of our trains.”

“I mean, I’m okay with that,” Futaba muttered. Makoto raised an eyebrow at her. “No, I’m not okay with that! I’ll get right to it!”

A flurry of hugs, kisses, piggyback rides and friendly wrestling sessions later, Akira headed home, the sudden silence weighing on him.

* * *

_9/19. Afternoon_

“Hey, Joker, your parents are home!” Morgana pointed a paw towards the car out the front of the house.

“Great.”

“Are we going to try and figure out anything to do with their Palace?”

“Maybe tomorrow.” Akira raised a hand, stroking Morgana’s ears, who pulled away from the touch. “I don’t want to annoy them by prying immediately after they get home.”

“Whatever you say.”

* * *

“Welcome back.”

“Oh, hi Aki-bō. How are you?” Ren yawned, raising a hand in greeting.

“Pretty good.” Akira looked his father up and down. “How did it go?”

“Strangest thing, actually.” Ren stretched in his spot, shaking himself to life. “We were struggling to get the files back or cobble together a copy from what we did have, but they just came back on their own yesterday. I swear they came back better than we left them, too…” Akira hid a grin behind his hand. Good job, Futaba.

“I’m glad to hear it went well, at least. Do we have coffee stuff around? I could fix you a cup,” Akira offered, a little hopeful that his missing coffee grinder would come back.

“How would I know?” Ren laughed. “We only got home a few hours ago, and I only just got out of bed.”

“You’ve never been one for naps,” Akira observed. “Was it really that bad?”

“Ugh, I haven’t even mentioned half of it.” Ren fell on the couch like a fucked up potato, legs hanging over the side with absolutely no trace of grace. “Toshiro was supposed to be working with us, but the moment the project goes to shit, he has a ‘family emergency’. I’d bet anything he just didn’t want to put in the work.”

Akira shrugged.

“Hey, Aki-bō, can you do me a favour?” Ren was still draped over the couch, speaking to the ceiling. Akira grunted. “Ask your mother to add the best coffee beans you can get around here to our shopping list. I’ve grown a real craving ever since you came back.”

“As soon as I figure out what the best coffee around here is, I’ll pass it on.” Akira smiled at his father. See? Perfectly normal. Hard to believe he even had a Palace.

“Hurry it up, would you?” Ren complained. “I think I’m suffering from withdrawal symptoms.”

* * *

“Akira Kurusu.” Sato’s voice ripped the heat out of the air, tearing Akira’s attention from his coffee research. He turned to see… oh no. “What, _exactly,_ is this?”

Sato waved around a frilly pink bra with a floral pattern. He recognised that one, actually. He was pretty sure it was one of Ann’s. It didn’t look like the right size to be Haru’s, and it definitely wasn’t Makoto’s.

… Sato was still staring at him. It didn’t help that he knew whose it was.

“It’s… mine?” Akira tried. The air frosted over. Okay, no, that wasn’t going to work. Switching between Personae gave him a tenuous grip on gender as a whole, but trying to leverage that as an explanation for the bra would cause infinitely more problems than solutions.

“If you’re fooling around under this roof-” Okay, he needed to head this off as quickly as possible.

“I’m not fooling around,” Akira rushed out.

“Then where did this come from?” Sato asked, waving the bra around. It would be almost comical if it wasn’t terrible. “ _Who_ did it come from?”

“I think-”

“You _**think?**_ ” Akira winced. Bad choice of words. “You don’t even know who it belongs to?”

“No, I know who it belongs to.”

“Who, then?” Ah, shit.

“... Ann Takamaki?” Better to tell the truth then risk a lie his mother could look into. His mother was silent for a precious moment, clearly running through a list in her head, before:

“Are you telling me you _invited your girlfriend from Tokyo over for the weekend without our permission?_ What, did you see us leaving for work and think it was the perfect opportunity to bring your little girlfriend home and have a little _fun_?”

“It wasn’t-” … Would it be _better_ or _worse_ for him to mention the fact that it wasn’t just her? Uh. Think, Akira, think. There had to be an elegant solution here. What would Joker do?

“Well?” Sato crossed her arms, hands clenched into fists, and stared him down. “Do you have an explanation?”

He could say that she needed to stay the weekend for personal reasons? No, his parents didn’t accept Sojiro dying of old age, they wouldn’t care how kind he was being. Maybe it was a study party? No, most study parties don’t involve bras. Those answers were both terrible. There had to be a third option. There always was _._

Reaching out to the back of his mind, he found one of his ever-present floating adjectives and seized it. Lionhearted. Confidence flowed through Joker, replacing his thin grimace of a smile with a cocky smirk, and the words that came out of that smirk were, “She wasn’t the only girl with me.”

Sato looked at him blankly. She blinked a few times. Akira had a horrible, horrible feeling he’d chosen the wrong option. Like, maybe the worst possible option. He felt quiet laughter in his head - _fuck off, Satanael, this is your fault_ \- before Sato’s mouth dropped open.

“Excuse me?” Huh, not as angry as he expected. “What did you just say?”

“Is there an issue?” Akira asked, hoping to any force above he hadn’t royally pissed off yet that he could get away with this.

“She… You brought…” Sato was utterly gobsmacked. “You…”

Maybe he could try lying. That had _never_ gone wrong before. “Did I say something strange? I may have... misspoken.”

“No, you didn’t.” Akira recoiled from her ferocious gaze. “Don’t think you can change your story, Akira, I’m not fucking stupid.”

“... Huh?”

“I saw the look on your face.” Sato had murder in her eyes. “You didn’t mean to say that, did you?”

“I… Have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, right.” Sato threw Ann’s bra at his head. He grabbed it out of the air. “You’ve always been impulsive, Akira, and you haven’t gotten any better at spinning your bullshit since you were nine. Tell me what actually fucking happened.”

“... Do you promise not to get mad?”

“Well,” Sato bit out, “I recall you promising not to get into any trouble in Tokyo, and then you ended up in juvenile detention for two months for reasons fucking nobody will explain to me even now, so let’s not make promises we can’t keep.”

Satanael was going to become a knife if he didn’t come up with something smart to say. Akira was completely floundering, and in lieu of a matching Arcana, a Fool was going to have to step up to the damn plate.

“I’ll tell you the truth,” Akira heard himself say, and he did the mental equivalent of rolling his eyes. He didn’t want to tell the truth, damn it. Not to somebody who didn’t trust him and wouldn’t believe him.

“Well?” Sato’s expression made a part of Akira curl up into a ball. This was not the way to spring the news on his mother that he was the centre of a polycule.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier,” he started, “but I’m…” A Phantom Thief, his brain supplied, as useless as ever.

“Oh, for the sake of..” Sato groaned, flinging her hands out. “Are you going to tell me the truth or not? Make up your damn mind already, Akira!”

“This isn’t easy, alright?” Akira snapped.

“Oh, it isn’t easy for you, huh?” Sato took a step forward. “Do you think it’s easy for us? We came home, exhausted after working overtime so we can do the best for you, and you do _this?_ While we were off working, you were gallivanting around our house with girls who can’t even bother to clean up after themselves?”

“Don’t say that about Ann!” Akira’s steely eyes flared to life. “Where did you even find this?”

“It was in your room, as you would _imagine_.” Sato’s nostrils flared. “I’ll say whatever I damn well please about this girlfriend of yours. If she can’t even keep her clothes in order, I can’t imagine she’s very good for you.”

“ **Don’t.** ” Something burned at the back of Akira’s mind, an ember that he couldn’t expunge as the words rattled out of his mouth. “Don’t you dare say that about Ann when you don’t even know her. She’s one of the kindest, most caring people I’ve ever met, and I won’t let you-”

“Yeah, maybe right now,” Sato scoffed. “How long have you two been together? Why have you never mentioned her before? Is she why you ran off to Tokyo the other day? Oh, I can just _picture_ it. You couldn’t be bothered to spend the day at school, so you ran to Tokyo on a whim and-”

“You’re being absurd right now, Mom.” Akira grinded his teeth against one another. “It’s complicated, and I don’t actually think my love life is any of your business.”

“You brought her here, under _my_ roof, and you say it isn’t any of our business? Is it going to be our business when you knock her up?” Sato’s gaze spat ice with every word. “Besides, you said you brought over multiple girls. Are you telling me you’re so spineless you’re even cheating on her?”

“I’m not cheating on her!” Akira had no idea how to salvage this. “I wouldn’t do something like that to her! There were a lot of us here!”

“Then, what, did you throw a party because we were out of the house?” Most of the frost melted, replaced with garden-variety parental disappointment. “I thought you were better than that, Akira.”

Finally, a lifeline. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.” He lowered his head, looking to the ground, and filled his expression with as much shame as he could muster.

He waited for his mother to say something - or even just walk away - but when he finally raised his head, she was just standing there, staring at him. Suspicion was etched into every fold of her face. “Alright,” she finally tried, “as long as you behave.”

“I will. I promise.” Akira watched his mother walk off and breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

_9/19. Evening_

_ann: oh my god im so sorry i didnt even NOTICE_

_Joker: It’s fine, just don’t forget to pick it up next time you’re up here._

_Yusuke: Were there no consequences for this, as of yet? I find it hard to believe that they would simply take you at your word._

_Joker: It was touch and go, but I think my mother confused herself and relaxed before she figured out a punishment._

_Yusuke: I would advise you to keep an eye on your parents, regardless. While I don’t wish to make undue assessments of their characters, there is always potential for a delayed retribution._

_Joker: I promise I’ll pay attention. Thank you, though, I appreciate it._

_Yusuke: Call it an old habit, if you’d like._

Akira looked up from his phone, stretching out on his bed. What to do tonight? Probably not a good idea to go out and do anything when he was already on thin ice with his parents… He didn’t really want to study, but-

His thoughts were interrupted by a buzz from his phone. He unlocked it, interested to see who had something to say, and was greeted by a flash of a message that disappeared as soon as he saw it.

_ryuryu: sorry wrong chat_

… Akira frowned. He would’ve sworn he saw his name in that message.

_“Something something l[_____] akira in the something”_

Maybe he misread it. Maybe Ryuji was just talking about him to somebody else, too. That would be sweet, if it was true, and the concept made his heart warm a little.

Akira sneezed. Was he getting a cold? If he was, he needed to get over it quick, because he didn’t want to have to wander around in the Metaverse with a case of the sniffles again. Last time he tried that, their only successful ambush was ruined by him sneezing a Shadow’s mask off.

… He really needed to find something to do. Maybe he’d ask Kanji for knitting lessons or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. To be fair, I DID say I wasn't sure how long the next chapter would take.
> 
> ... I just didn't expect my editor to get super busy with college, and for me to get busy too. As much as I wish I could say 'yeah regular updates again woohoo' I absolutely cannot and will not promise that, because that would be lying. No idea when the next chapter will come out, but rest assured that the both of us are absolutely still thrilled to get this thing written and out. Even if it takes a while, and there's some... large delays.... between chapters, I'm not going to drop it anytime soon. 
> 
> I think I already linked my [ tumblr](https://justicetom21.tumblr.com/) but if you want to ask questions/say hi/bug me into writing feel free to hit me up. There's also other places on the internet you can find me, but you're a smart cookie, you can work it out if you care.


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